


Prowl

by nctatnightnight



Category: ITZY (Band), Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Blood, Blood Drinking, Blood and Violence, Car Sex, F/M, Glove Kink, Gun Violence, Heist, Hook-Up, Jealousy, Light Bondage, Love Triangles, Multi, Mystery, Name-Calling, Public Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Vampires, Violence, Wall Sex, Werewolves, bad coping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-01-02 01:35:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 51,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21153419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nctatnightnight/pseuds/nctatnightnight
Summary: The Reader flirts with danger when she runs into a dashing werewolf twice in one night.





	1. Chapter 1

The bass and commotion from within the bar permeated the bricks that pressed into your back in the cool alleyway, contrasting beautifully with the warm pair of lips trailing over your neck. The heat coursing through you was making you ravenous, in an inconveniently literal way. You gasped at the sensation, giving a breathless smile to this dashing stranger as you gently pushed him off of you to get a good look at him. The hunger hadn’t struck you like this in some time, but hopefully Chan would understand. You hadn’t really had a chance to broach the subject yet. The evening had been a whirlwind, but you never could’ve predicted what was coming.

This was the first night you’d been able to relax, to really take a moment for yourself when you closed up the office and headed for home. Your job was unorthodox, working as an assistant in your college’s rare books section of the library, but you loved every moment, mind-numbingly boring or not. The whole city had been on edge lately, reeling from a series of break-ins and robberies. There had been rumors, silly whispers from students and staff around school, that it may have been a roving gang of wolves, but if that had been the case the police had never confirmed it. Wolves, here? They would’ve been chased out of town immediately, just like they had been after that string of arsons years ago. That had been about a month ago. Now that the criminal activity had died down, though, spirits seemed to be lifted in general.

You had walked home, tempted by the music drifting from the dive bar that marked halfway between the campus and your apartment, and decided you’d been more than prudent lately. Even though you had tests to study for, that could wait for a bit. You had a soft spot for the grimy club, regularly filled with rowdy punks that made you wistful for your younger self. The bands were good, and the beer was cheap. You had shouldered your bag and strolled in to see who was playing, when a blonde you’d never seen at the bar before caught your eye as you finished your watery beer. He’d been hanging out with a gaggle of guys by the stage, looking cute with a little scar across the bridge of his nose. You raised your beer bottle when he finally met your gaze, smirking as you shook the bottle and pretended to pout about it being empty. He walked over and bought you a new beer before he introduced himself. This was Chan.

Now, Chan was watching you expectantly as your hands wandered his chest, really wondering if you could get away with springing a quick feeding on him. The last boy you’d tried this on was appropriately offended, claiming to not be “that kind of guy,” and you’d apologized profusely. Maybe, however, this was different. You hadn’t met that guy at the bar, and you certainly hadn’t gone from talking to making out in 20 minutes. You couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. With proper care, you were almost never surprised by bloodlust, and certainly never because you were horny. This was an admittedly new situation, one with messy possibilities. You’d hate to scare off such a cute guy. Maybe you could reach a happy medium, letting him get the idea for himself.

You hooked a finger into Chan’s jeans, pulling him close by the hips before you kissed him hungrily. Your tongues mingled, drawing small moans from you before you kissed down his jawline to his neck. His hands roamed your thighs, somewhat exposed now that the skirt you’d worn to work was riding up a bit. He jumped just the slightest bit as you pressed your hips against the growing erection in his jeans. Your mind was awash, overwhelmed with desire. He looked so good. He _smelled_ so good. He had the cutest dimple, and a gorgeous neck. He smelled like beach fire, mahogany, _veal_.

“_We need to hurry this up_,” you whispered against his neck, “_I’m starving for you_.”

Chan let out a breathless chuckle as your teeth grazed his neck, the points in your canines already extending in your growing arousal. It wasn’t until he felt the sharp pinpricks in his skin that he stopped dead, pushing off of you a little.

“Wait, hold on –” he scrambled as he clapped a hand to his neck. You steeled yourself for a berating. “Were you about to–? I’m, er, a Non-Viable Donor.”

You shook your head in disbelief. Seriously? A Non-Viable Donor? You highly doubted this guy’s blood would poison you if you drank too much; he looked and smelled perfectly healthy. Really, he smelled… His musk was so specific, it couldn’t just be cologne.

Chan sputtered as you shoved him off, the force being enough to jostle your bag off your shoulder and onto the ground.

“You’re a wolf!” You cried, causing him to quickly duck forward and try to quiet you in the alleyway. You slapped his hand away, but he still got a hold of your arm. “You _filthy_ dog! I can’t believe I almost fed on you!” You backed away against the wall, but he easily kept close.

He furrowed his eyebrows at you, the little scar on his nose crinkling. “Don’t act so offended, you leech! What were you going to do, just suddenly start drinking and hope I’m into it?”

“Oh, so I’m a leech now?” You pettily redirected as you firmly shoved him back off.

“Who knows, maybe you would’ve sucked like one,” he sneered. Ouch.

“Must be pretty small then,” you muttered. That did the trick. With an astounded huff, Chan turned heel and stormed back into the bar.

You leaned back against the wall, head in your hands as you collected your nerves. You didn’t remember the last time you’d ever knowingly socialized with a wolf in person. The last occasion you recalled was the guy who mugged you in your freshman year. You has just recently been turned, a one night stand with a senior having gone horribly wrong. That wolf had also smelled overpoweringly like veal to you, but he didn’t also smell like bonfires on the beach. In fact, he’d smelled rotten. You felt bad. Chan was probably a perfectly great guy that you chased off like he was some monster.

Fine. Then it was time to go home. That was enough fun for tonight. You stooped down to pick up the spilled contents of your bag, but where was your hard drive? You kept a portable hard drive on you at all times at school, a much more reliable storage tool to keep all your work on, including your study materials. It was handy when you wanted to work in the computer lab, but it wouldn’t be handy at all if it was missing. You quickly rifled through the bag and checked the ground around your feet. Missing. You thought back over your evening. You’d used your hard drive to save some research to review at home and then – of course. It was still plugged in at your desk. You sighed deeply before trudging back to the campus.

Getting into your office was pretty easy. As you were usually saddled with closing duties, you had your own key and the code for the security system. You opened the side door to the library building and quickly tapped in the code on the keypad to disarm the system before going about finding your office in the dark. You disarmed and unlocked the door for the rare books section before disarming and unlocking the door to your office, all the while astounded by how quiet the entire library could be when you were the only person inside in the hush of the night. You located your hard drive, still dutifully plugged in, and plucked it free from the computer. Stuffing it securely in your bag, you locked up the office and set the code again. You had just punched in the Enter key when you heard it. A voice. Multiple voices. Multiple voices headed right for you.

_“Why isn’t there an alarm? There’s supposed to be an alarm!”_

_“No idea. I’ll stand watch while you’re inside. The rest of you split up and see if there’s anyone else in here.”_

As quietly as you could manage in your quickly growing terror, you sprinted deep into the stacks. The group of voices was right between you and your way out. The smell hit you. Veal. So they really were wolves. You navigated the maze you best you could, trying to head for the stairs as you heard multiple pairs of feet running around this floor. Finding one of the stairwells, you carefully padded up the steps to the next floor, a hand pressed tight over your mouth as you panted and whimpered. First you’d find a safe spot to hide, then you’d call the police once the coast was clear. At least, that was the plan until you heard a set of footsteps bounding up the stairs. You sprinted down the aisles as fast as you could, turning a corner and –

And very nearly screaming the moment a gloved hand clamped over your mouth. You thrashed and struggled, two strong arms grappling around you as you were manhandled underneath one of the study desks on this floor. The figure’s weight pressed down on top of you, squeezed in under the desk between your legs as he quietly cursed for you to shut up. Your nose was flooded with the scent of veal… And bonfires by the woods?

You ripped the gloved hand off of you as you struggled to climb out from beneath Chan. “_You!_” You angrily whispered, “_Now you’re fucking robbing me?_”

“_You?_” Chan whispered back, startled as he recognized your voice, “_I thought you smelled familiar. What the hell are you doing here?_”

“_I work here, you dumb dog._”

Chan’s grip on your arm tightened. “_Watch it, leech. I’m doing you a favor._”

“_Oh, doing what, trying to fuck me again?_”

“_No, you idiot, I’m hiding you. If anyone comes up here they’ll smell me instead._”

“_And why are you doing that? Criminal with a heart of gold?_” You laughed meanly.

Chan raised an eyebrow. “_Well, alright, if you want me to throw you to the pack –_”

“_No, no, wait,_” you squeaked, “_I’m calming down. Let me try again. Why exactly are you hiding me?_”

“_Because there wasn’t supposed to be anyone else here, and while I care about innocent people getting hurt, **they** don’t._”

A shiver spiked between your shoulder blades at the thought. “_Fine,_” you settled, “_but I’m still mad you didn’t tell me you’re a wolf._”

“_Well I’m still mad you tried to drink me, **and** blue-balled me._”

You couldn’t help but get riled up again. “_Oh, **you’re** blue-balled?! How do you think I feel?!_” The exclamation was loud enough that Chan clamped a hand back over your mouth. You struggled against him, biting into the leather of his gloves to try and get him to release. Your hands searched him as you wrestled under the desk, trying to find any opportunity to get him off of you. All you found was a cell phone, a utility knife, and a wallet. He quickly reached down and slapped the utility knife out of your hands, but you still grabbed the wallet. You accidentally fumbled it open as you tried to get enough elbow room to chuck it, maybe make him terrified of leaving evidence… When your fingers brushed something metallic inside. You squinted over his shoulder as you grappled, your eyes widening as you realized what the small metal object was.

“**_And_**_ you’re a fucking cop?!_”

“_Oh Jesus Christ, you dumb bloodsucker, do you ever shut up?_” Chan panted.

“_Either explain or get off of me,” _you threatened,_ “or else I’m yelling for your friends downstairs._”

“_No, no, holy shit, don’t do that. I’ve been undercover with these guys ever since I figured out they started those fires five years ago, okay?_”

You eyed him warily. “_I thought those guys were put away._”

“_Wrong guys. They rounded up some new blood, just these orphaned kids right out of high school, set them up and framed them._”

“_Sounds about right._”

“_Oh my god, will you shut up, you stupid leech?_”

“_Stop calling me that!_”

“_Maybe cool it on the prejudice, then. __I didn’t ask to be like this, you know._”

“_Neither did I._”

Your voice was getting hoarse from whispering for so long. You stared hard at each other in the dim moonlight streaming in through the windows when you realized that in all your bickering and hard breathing, your hips were flush against each other, the friction having more of an effect on you than you wished to admit. It seemed the same could be said for him.

“_You should be nicer to me,_” he exhaled out with a chuckle, “_I took a detour from my assignment and bought you a beer, even after I smelled you._”

“_And what do vampires smell like?_” You asked, half cloying, half curious.

“_Dumb bigots that don’t know how to stop talking, apparently,_” he laughed, wincing when you punched him in the shoulder. “_You’re a bit of a firecracker, you know that?_” He groaned, rubbing where you’d hit him.

“_Well, seeing as you’re hard, I’m assuming you’re into it._”

He tensed at your words, almost as if he only realized you were right when you said them. In fact, you could feel him throb against you even through his jeans.

“_Yeah, and you’re wet, so I’m guessing you’re just as eager,_” he quietly fired back. He was right. In all your continued wriggling under the desk, your skirt had ridden up around your hips. Chan was right up against your dampening panties.

“_I’ve **been** eager,_” you challenged, “_so hurry up already._”

This seemed to be the magic phrase, fully uninhibiting Chan into leaning down and locking his lips onto yours. You moaned quietly against him, your hands clutching onto him as he fumbled with his jeans. He managed to unzip his jeans and fish out his hard-on in the tight space, his fingers now searching to push your panties to the side. His lips trailed down to your neck, nibbling between your pulse and your ear as you tried to hungrily grind down onto his cock.

“_You want it?_” He teased. “_You sure you want to sleep with some filthy wolf?_”

“_Hardly any sleep to it, you dumb dog,_” you laughed, “_now fuck me like I wanted you to earlier._”

He grew rigid at the resumed name-calling, literally clamping his teeth onto your shoulder and growling as he sank deep into you with one thrust. “_You asked for it, you little blood-slut._”

You cried out, hushed instantly as he pushed the side of his gloved hand into your mouth. With your improvised gag, you whined and moaned freely, loving the stretch he gave you as he fucked you roughly under the desk. Chan snuck a hand up under your sweater, groaning as he groped your breasts, even pushing the material up to get a better look in the moonlight. He caught the hand you were trying to clutch onto him with, pushing it back onto the carpet and holding you down as he took you. By now, he’d basically maneuvered you both out from under the desk to better thrust into you. You still managed to thread the fingers of your free hand into his hair, gripping tightly as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

Chan managed to slip his hand free from your teeth, kissing you again as he used his newly regained fingers to thumb your nipples. You bit hard into your lip, trying your hardest not to cry out now that you weren’t gagged. As if to further encourage your silence, you shivered as Chan’s gloved fingers tentatively wrapped around your throat. The idea electrified you.

“_Do it,_” you ordered, admiring how timid he suddenly looked about it. “_Don’t do it too hard, but do it._”

He nodded seriously, his eyes blown out with desire as his fingers carefully tightened around your neck. You gasped, the struggle to breathe making you light-headed in the most exquisite way. Small moans and squeaks still managed to escape you, along with Chan’s own quiet groans as he ravaged you on the floor. What surprised you was how effective the choking was in this moment. For having only tried it a few times before, it never made you feel like you could cum almost instantly before.

“_Chan_,” you weakly pleaded, “_make me cum._”

He smiled mischievously. “_Be nice, you little bloodsucker._”

“_Chan, **please** make me cum._”

“_You asked for it, leech._”

It was too much. The name-calling, Chan’s steadily tightening grip on your throat, his cock roughly thrusting into your soaked pussy, you were reaching your peak fast. Chan leaned down, kissing you sweetly in contrast to his hold on your neck. “_Say thank you,_” he ordered quietly against your lips.

That did it. Your thighs clenched tight around him as you hit your climax. He released your neck right as you came, the headrush giving your orgasm an edge you’d never felt before. Much to Chan’s chagrin, you thanked him over and over in your mess of hushed moans and whimpers, your spasming pussy holding fast onto his cock still pistoning in and out of you.

“_See?_” He laughed breathlessly against your neck, “_It’s not so hard to be nice to me when I’m so good to you._”

“_**So** good,_” you agreed, still dazed. “_How do I make you cum?_”

“_You tell me,_” he playfully challenged, startled as you swiftly pushed his shoulder and rolled you both over so you perched on his hips. He watched, curiosity quickly turning into pleasure as you rolled your hips onto his cock, your still-recovering pussy savoring the sensation. He gripped onto your thighs as he thrust along with you, the leather of his gloves almost rubbing raw against you by now. You leaned down to kiss him, your tongue massaging his as you kept your harried pace. You kissed his chin, his cheek, before almost tickling him with your kisses on his throat.

“_Are you really Non-Viable?_” You whispered against his neck.

“_No, that was a lie,_” he admitted, “_you just spooked me, is all. Why do– **oh fuck**._”

Chan’s hands squeezed you hard enough to bruise as you steadily let your teeth sink into his neck. He cursed and groaned, only to find that now it was his turn to have you clamp a hand over his mouth for a moment until the initial shock wore off. “_You stupid, dumb fucking bloodsucker,_” Chan seethed, “_why the fuck does that feel so **good**?_”

Why _did_ it feel so good? Feeding had never felt this amazing before, Chan’s blood washing sweet like wine over your tongue. It was actual bliss, Chan’s length filling you while you savored his blood. Such bliss, really, that you felt another orgasm rising. You carefully slid your teeth out of Chan’s neck to press a particularly messy kiss to his lips.

“_You want to cum with me? Wanna cum with a dumb blood-slut feeding on you?_” You asked sweetly.

“**_Again_**_, you greedy bitch?_” Chan moaned deep, bucking his hips up hard against you, his eyes squeezed shut and his teeth gritting. “_Do it. If you do it again I’m going to cum so fucking hard inside you._”

How could you say no to that? Chan was quickly becoming a wreck under you, blood all over his neck and face as he groaned hard. You gladly obliged, finding a new place to pierce the fine skin over his jugular, and you were both seeing stars again as you continued feeding on him. “_Yes, yes,_” Chan whined, “_come on, princess, I’m almost there._”

_Princess_? You could get used to that. You slid your pussy up and down his shaft even faster, ravenously lapping him up as you both teetered on the edge. How to get him over, though?

You pulled your teeth out of him once again. “_You know what you have to say, you stupid dog?_”

“_What?_” He asked desperately.

“_Say thank you._”

With that, you pierced his neck once more, making him cry out in absolute ecstasy as you fucked him into his explosive orgasm, yours following with a gasp right behind. You shivered against him, a pleased, languid smile gracing your lips as he dazedly whispered his gratitude in your ear over and over, his arms wrapped tight around your waist. His climax felt incredible inside you, almost like it was energizing you as it filled you up. You both lay like that for a second, slowly grinding to a halt and catching your breath against each other.

Chan spoke first. “_Cardamom, by the way._”

“_Cardamom?_” You smirked.

“_Shut up. I like cooking. And yes, vampires smell like cardamom to me._”

“_Well,_” you quietly laughed against his neck, “_that’s unexpected. But I like it._”

“_That, and you, specifically? You smell like something my grandmother grew in her garden growing up. I can’t place it. But I dunno. It made me feel safe. That’s why I talked to you._”

You blushed deep, maybe even deeper with Chan’s blood and more filling you. “_That’s… Oddly sweet. I really like that._”

“_Good. You should._” Chan smiled modestly. “_Now, it’s time to go. Come on._”

“_What are we doing?_” You asked as he slipped you off of his hips. He readjusted his clothes, pulling out a bandana that had been tucked into his pocket and blotting his neck with it.

“_There’s a silent alarm in the office, right?_”

“_Under the professor’s desk,_” you answered automatically, “_why?_”

“_Because now it’s time for you to trust me._” Chan gently held your chin before really taking a second to kiss you, something you would expect at the end of a first date. In a weird, messed up way, this was sort of a different version of just that.

You were startled as he gathered your wrists together behind your back, swiftly binding them together with the bandana before he readjusted your skirt.

“_Chan! What the fuck?! Put me down!_” You yelled out as he picked you up and hoisted you over his shoulder.

“_I look a little too obvious to play this off as nothing,_” Chan explained. “_So, like I said, trust me and we’ll be fine._”

You were just about to protest once more when Chan descended the stairs, walking up to a group of wolves with headlamps on that had assembled at the office, having successfully finished their heisting. Four beams of light shined towards Chan, from what you could see slung over his shoulder.

“_Where’ve you been?_” Came a voice. “_We’ve been– what the fuck happened to you?_”

“There _was_ somebody in here with us after all. The professor’s little assistant.” Chan replied with a small laugh, patting the back of your thigh and getting a chuckle out of the pack as you wriggled in his grip. One of the wolves circled around to regard you.

“_Alright,_” the wolf you were glaring at pitched in, “_but you look like a god-damned wreck. And what’s that **smell**?_”

“Just my luck, she’s a bloodsucker. She got spooked, tried to bite me, so I, heh, taught her a lesson.” You were simultaneously impressed and disgusted with how well Chan could play this role, feeling genuinely dirty as the wolf wrinkled his nose at the realization.

“_Ugh, you fucked her? I mean, good for you, but…_” The wolf did not hold back his judgement for one second. You wanted nothing more than to beat the hell out of him.

“_Well, we can’t just leave her here,_” another wolf added, “_we’ll take her with us. Who knows, I always wanted to try a vampire._”

Chan’s grip on your thigh twitched, but his tone remained light. “What do you mean? We can absolutely leave her here. What’s she going to do? By the time anyone comes we’ll be long gone. We don’t have time or room.”

“_Chan’s right,_” another wolf said definitively. “_Leave the girl and let’s go._”

The rest of the pack deferred to this new opinion, grumbling as you heard them pack out. Chan carefully set you down by the professor’s desk and gently kissed your lips.

“_You alright?_” He quietly asked. You nodded warily, still unsure of this other side of him you just saw. “_This was fun,_” Chan continued. “_Maybe I’ll see you around, **princess**._”

He kissed you again and, with a wink, he joined the others as they left. You watched, dazed and unsure of just what the hell all happened tonight. You easily untied yourself and punched the silent alarm, wondering just how much of the story you would tell the police when they came, and if you really would ever see Chan again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted to skzctnightnight.tumblr.com!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Reader tries to sort herself out after the night at the library by taking a trip to the coast, but only manages to get herself caught up in a stranger reeling from a tragedy.

The cold, salt air tickled your nose as you watched the sun finally complete its journey beneath the horizon. You arose from your seat by the window, taking a sip from your first steaming cup of coffee for the night. However, maybe you didn't need to stay inside and hoard your aunt's coffee maker again. Maybe it was finally time to explore the town. 

It'd only been about a week since that night at the library. The cops came roughly fifteen minutes after you punched the silent alarm, surprised and bewildered by the bloody and bruised girl sitting in an exhausted heap on the office floor. The paramedics arrived before you could protest, already feeling antsy about the time persistently crawling towards daybreak. A medic cleaned you up while the police looked around the library, scraping under your nails and pulling errant strands of hair that had clung to your sweater. It was difficult to feel present, to truly grasp if anything had actually happened that night. Really, it all sounded ridiculous and that only helped everything feel more surreal. The woman tending to you looked puzzled as none of the blood she meticulously wiped up revealed anything more than minor scratches underneath. A man in a suit excused her and pulled up a chair. He asked for your name, what you do at the library, did you know see anything recognizable about the perpetrators. You were almost no help, having seen no one’s faces, except… 

“Well,” you carefully paused, “one of them helped me make it out alive. They were talking about taking me or maybe even… I don't want to think about what, but one of them helped me.”

The detective sat up, alert with pencil in hand and poised to go. 

“Chan,” you said quietly, looking up from your shoes long enough to see the detective's eyes widen for just a second, “he said he saw me at the bar earlier. He can't be much older than me. Has a scar on his nose. He convinced the others to leave me here.” 

“Do you think this ‘Chan’ had ulterior motives in keeping you alive?”

“I think he’s just a good guy working with a bad crowd,” you shrugged, eyeing the detective cautiously, “I just wish I could see him again. Ask him some questions of my own. Let him know how thankful I am.”

The detective had nodded knowingly, penciling in a couple notes and snapping his notebook shut. “Well, miss, that about settles my needs,” he said as he got up and smoothed out his suit jacket, “I understand that situations like this can take a toll on a person. I would consider seeing the school's mental health counselor… Maybe take a trip to the coast.”

“Wouldn't you want me to stay in town for questioning?” You asked curiously. 

“No need. We have your phone number. Besides, there’s plenty of us around, even out there. We can find you if we need to. Or you can find us just as easily, for that matter.”

And, with that, the detective had nodded his thanks and left you alone in the office, just as Chan had not long before. 

So you went to the coast. Leaving school wasn't difficult; the counselor may as well have packed your bags for you when you explained what happened. Your aunt had lived here for years now, keeping residence in a quaint A-frame that overlooked the beach from where it sat up in the forested hills. You remembered dreamy summers spent here when you were younger, wondering what it was like to live in a sleepy town that had an off-season. You'd never been here when the leaves changed color, and you suspected that was the most exciting thing that happened the rest of the year. It was easy to hide out, telling your aunt you had a hard time sleeping at night after the incident and that you'd rather sleep during the day when you felt safer. Lying felt bad, heavy in your gut, but no one in your family knew about your condition yet. It wasn't time. You weren't sure if it would ever be. 

Your aunt kept the keys for her dumpy pickup hanging by the door. She offered that you could use it to get around town while she slept, even if not many things were open late in the off-season. Her only caveat had been that you had to be careful — apparently “hooligans” had been a problem around town. However, you felt restless and you knew for a fact that the diner at the end of the main street was open, having passed it on your bus ride into town your first night here. The diner was hard to miss, sitting next to a storefront with a line of fluorescent tape barring the entrance. 

The diner was lively and  _ warm _ as you walked in despite the scarce patrons. The truck’s heater was shot, so you had bundled up in a coat with your bandana up over your nose. The bandana still smelled thickly of Chan, having tucked it into the pocket of your skirt before the police came that night. Even after washing it repeatedly to rid it of all the blood, it still smelled perfectly like him. It was almost a totem, shielding you and keeping you feeling safe. Even though you still had your doubts, you held onto this idea of him. As long as that smell was surrounding you, he was always near and you could face anything. 

You let the bandana drop around your neck and hung your jacket on the back of a chair at the bar. The staff was sparse, only two old men who were friendly enough to make up for their speed. Apparently, these were Bill and Fred. 

“Well then,” Bill smiled, “a stranger at this time of year? Who do you belong to?”

You smiled and thumbed over your shoulder to the truck parked outside and both men erupted into boisterous laughter, more than happy to share anecdotes about your aunt from over the years. 

“So, young lady,” Fred asked as they finally brought you your cup of coffee, “what do you do when you’re not escaping to the beach?”

“Oh,” you stumbled over your tongue as you sipped at the hot brew, “I'm an assistant with the rare books section of the university’s library.”

“Fancy that,” Bill beamed, “you must have one hell of a head on your shoulders.”

“In fact, you probably would've loved the old bookstore next door, before—” Fred shushed himself instantly as Bill waved frantically for him to stop. However, you perked up. 

“Yeah! I wanted to ask about that. What happened there?”

The two men looked warily at each other. 

“You don't want to hear about that, young one,” Bill attempted. You shook your head. 

“I really do. I can handle it.”

Not taking the bait, Bill folded his arms as Fred leaned in. 

“We've been having a lot of vandalism going on in town this season,” he said quietly, “even some petty theft. But this is the first time in ten years someone was killed. And certainly the first time anything like this has happened. These punks—”

“They're not just some punks,” a voice behind you spoke up. A young man, barely younger than yourself, stood up from the booth he had been sitting at. He was handsome, lithe in the area’s requisite flannel shirt and a denim jacket that was probably older than he was. 

“You keep saying that,” Bill shook his head, “but I—”

“I know, I know,” the stranger sighed, “nothing ever happens here. But Mr. Shepherd wasn't just robbed, he was murdered.”

“Sure,” Fred shrugged helplessly, “but where did they go? They could be down the coast by now.”

“Or they're still here,” the stranger insisted, stepping forward and pressing his hands down on the bar. “I've been noticing something weird on my way home each night. Smoke out past the trailhead. But I never find any camps or fires.”

“Then tell the police,” Bill said simply. 

“You're right,” the stranger replied flatly, “why am I even bothering telling you.” He dug his wallet out from his pocket and flipped a couple of bills onto the counter. “Thank you for the coffee as always. Hers, too.” 

You almost felt bad for the old proprietors of the diner, but you understood where this stranger was coming from. You had questions, just like he apparently did. From everything you understood about the business, thieves hardly ever stole books. And — considering the possibility that you were right and the detective had pointed you in the direction of Chan — then these same wolves had stolen more. Why books? Why here? Why kill the bookshop owner and not you? Chan’s voice rang through your mind, “ _ I care about innocent people getting hurt,  _ ** _they_ ** _ don't _ .” Something had to have happened but you couldn't figure out what. 

“Poor kid,” Bill grumbled as he topped off your coffee, “he's been working at Adam Shepherd’s place next door for a few years or so now. Even rents a room in his house. He's been taking it real hard. Hasn't had it in him to open the shop back up.”

“Can't say I blame him,” you commiserated. Fred and Bill nodded in solemn agreeance as you took a hearty gulp of your coffee. You stayed, asking about the trailhead and where it was even though you know you shouldn't, that you were only inviting yourself into a rabbit hole. But if Chan was out there and he could tell you why this was happening and maybe even help you steal back the college’s property, then maybe it was worth it. You had to admit you felt a bit humiliated, that you could let your guard down to a handsome face and electric personality long enough to be robbed blind, but something about Chan had ignited something primal in you — something that felt entirely foreign, but at the same time something you could vaguely understand the shape of. 

You had to at least see for yourself. Bill and Fred were sad to see you leave for the night, but eagerly professed their excitement to have you back during your stay. You still left a generous tip on the counter despite the stranger paying for your coffee. In searching the dilapidated pickup, you found a utility knife and a hefty flashlight as far as anything useful went. However, useful was useful and at least there was anything at all. You drove up to the trailhead, making note of landmarks along the way. 

As you stepped out, you pulled your handkerchief back over your chilly nose and warily observed a compact motorbike parked next to the trail map. The outlined path twisted up the hill, around the creek, and down to the beach — just as the duo at the diner had described. You gripped your flashlight and set off. 

The hiking trail was well-kept, clear and fortunately illuminated by a moon in waxing gibbous hanging heavy in the sky. The ground was firm beneath your feet and gave way to sandier terrain as you neared the creek. Sure enough, there was smoke high in the forest, far off the trail. The best plan of action appeared to be to hike the trail as close as you could before venturing through the woods and brush. 

A chill coursed through your shoulders and spine as you heard a branch snap in the distance behind you. You turned, refusing to click on the flashlight in your hands in case you might spook whatever had spooked you first. You burrowed deeper into your coat to shield you from the draping cold of the night and blazed ahead. 

Another snap behind you stopped you in your tracks, only for a moment as you realized the sound was closer this time. You looked up ahead. Despite the supplied moonlight, you still had to squint to make out that the trail curved around to follow the creek up ahead. If you cut through the woods you could probably make it to the other side and back onto the path. 

The footsteps grew faster as yours did, leaves crunching underfoot as you scrambled into the brush. You yanked your handkerchief down to breathe, to grab lungfuls of air when you smelled it. An overwhelming breeze of veal and sweat flooded your nose. Not to mention that somewhere, a some point, the rugged scent of woodsy beach fires had been here. Was your mind playing tricks on you, or was Chan nearby? 

The creek came into view. It was a good bet that the trail came out somewhere on the other side, but it was a bet nonetheless. As the panting steps behind you began catching up, you vaulted over the creek, not wanting to risk falling into the cold water when you were on the run. You silently cheered yourself on as you caught a lucky break, a cursing splash erupting behind you to let you know you lost your pursuer. You sprinted ahead, dashing over rocks and felled branches and dodging low foliage when you caught sight of a figure ahead of you. The only difference was they were going the same direction you were: away from whatever was behind you. Still, one in front, one and who knew how many more behind you. Beyond the figure the trail came back into sight, with a shack and driveway attached nearby. A dumpy outpost to sell bait by the creek and beach, assumedly. You must've been nearing the road again. 

You hazarded a look behind you as you ran up to the shack. Turning back to the front, the figure in front of you had disappeared. Sure enough, a modest shop sign hung above the door, and another hung in front reading “ _ Happy fishing! See you next summer! _ ” The season was wrong for buying bait, but it was perfect for hiding out. You ran around the rear of the modest shop and found the back door. You jimmied the flimsy screen door’s lock easily enough but the wooden door beyond proved to be more of a challenge. Thankfully, you guessed just how safe the town thought it was as you spied a coffee can sitting on the crowded porch. You kicked it over, picking up the spare key and letting yourself in. 

The first step to securing a hiding spot for now was to lock both doors behind you. Next, you clicked on your flashlight. A chair was parked under a desk in the tiny back room and you grabbed it, dragging it over and jamming it under the doorknob. Now your biggest concern was getting out of here before sunrise, the clock on the wall agreeing with the time on your phone that it was getting dangerously close to sun-up. You just had to make sure you were alone so you could escape to the truck. You checked the store proper, looking between cluttered shelves in the tiny shop to check for anyone hiding when a noise startled you in the dark. You clicked the flashlight back off and considered your options. Going out the way you came seemed too easily cumbersome. The fastest option was to hide. You ducked into the back room once again and crawled under the desk. You sat as still as you could, steadying your breath to be slow and quiet when the front door crashed open with a hushed curse, the bell over the door jamb ringing the intruder’s arrival. Whoever it was breathed hard, heavy with adrenaline and fear. No scent of veal, no more than Chan’s scent hanging around your neck, but something new — something like seared venison, almost. Venison and buttercups. The figure also checked around the shop, looking around and soon enough making it into the back room. You clapped a hand over your mouth, nervous as a pair of shoes confronted you under the desk. What was the best move? You could wait, but your fellow intruder would probably check under the desk if they were smart. Then you would be cornered with nowhere to go. No, the best plan was to fight your way out now and get back to the truck. You mustered all the patience and energy and fearlessness that you could before grabbing at the ankles in front of you. The intruder cried out, falling over as you pulled on his legs. He crashed to the floor, getting his arms up to protect his face as you scrambled out in an attempt to crawl over and away from him. Your arm was snatched, pulling you down and rolling you onto your back as the figure cursed and struggled with you on the floor. One of your wrists was clutched down onto the hardwood floor in a desperate hold. Gripping your flashlight, you smacked him hard once, twice on the back, and your assailant let go of you long enough to try and snatch it out of your hand. You dug a knee into his hip, kicking him off and away from you. You clicked on the flashlight, pointing the beam right at his face.

“Hey! A bit late for a hike, isn’t it?” You breathlessly accused as you were faced with the young man from the diner. He held up a hand to shield himself from the light and you turned it back off. Even just by the light of the moon, his large eyes still shined wildly in the dark. 

“A bit late to be chasing and attacking strangers, isn’t it?” He bit back as he massaged the arm he fell onto. 

“I wasn't chasing you,” you defended, “I was being chased myself.”

“By who?”

“By wolves.”

You got back up and onto your feet, offering the man your hand to help him up. He looked at you cautiously enough that you could make it out in the meager moonlight streaming in through the streaked windows. Nevertheless, he took your hand, getting up and dusting himself off. 

“Were you trying to find your stolen books?” The man asked. You straightened up a bit, on edge. 

“I didn’t mention being robbed back at the diner,” you replied carefully. 

“No, but unlike a lot of people here, I watch the news. Only thing is, the news didn’t mention anyone present at the university robbery other than the thieves themselves. But you mentioned back there that you work for the library. And if you’re here now, then you must be looking for  _ them _ , too.”

You sighed heavily as you took a step closer. He took one step back. “No, it was an honest coincidence. My aunt really does live here.”

You weren't sure why you were lying, or even if it really was lying at all for that matter. You took one more step closer. He took another step back. “Quit it,” you soothed, “I hit you really hard. I want to see if you're okay.”

The man eyed you warily as you gently took his hand again and led him to sit on the desk. You gingerly slid one arm out of the sleeve of his jacket before you softly lifted his shirt to check on his back. The bruises that had erupted on his skin were just starting to darken. You lightly touched the marks, feeling for anything broken or loose. The pulse of blood rushing through him made your heart skip a beat. Suddenly, you were painfully aware of how tired and hungry you were. How long had it been since you properly fed? The man winced and groaned as you thoroughly checked him, but you admired how he beared it. 

“Hey,” you quietly offered, wanting to help distract him from the pain, “I’m sorry to hear about Mr. Shepherd. You were close?”

He nodded solemnly. “We were close. I was a teenager. My foster parents moved us around a lot growing up, and one day I just realized… I didn’t need to be there. They weren’t doing anything for me that I couldn't do myself. So I waited for them to try and move us again. We took a quick stop on the road here, and I just  _ ran _ . I ended up at the bookshop. I had no family, no money, no manners, and he treated me like a person. He was my first real friend.”

Your heart sank. It was difficult to imagine not only losing someone so close to you, but to also have the thing you shared get destroyed and ravaged? You squeezed his shoulder sympathetically, jumping as the alarm on your phone buzzed. Sunrise was coming. You shook off your odd rush of sentimentality and focused. 

“Well, thanks for not being a murderer — what was your name? I never caught it.”

“Jisung,” he supplied with a small smile. 

“Alright Jisung,” you smiled back, “I'm glad to diagnose you as bruised but otherwise fine, but I have to go. I’d offer you a lift but—”

“Oh, no, it’s fine,” he waved you off, “I rode here. Are you sure I can't walk you back to your truck?”

“No, I—” your heart raced, making you trip over your words as you noticed the sun peeking over the horizon. You were so tired all of a sudden. 

“Hey,” Jisung perked up, hopping off the desk as your stance wavered, “are you alright?” He followed your glance out the window and looked back at you, eyebrows raised dubiously. 

“Yeah,” you smiled weakly, “I guess I just wore myself out tonight.”

You attempted to steady yourself on the edge of the desk as your vision faded. Jisung took one step closer. You took one step back, teetering as you finally fell asleep in the growing daybreak. 

* * *

It was alarming to wake up in your own bed back at your aunt's house. This still took getting used to occasionally, waking up as if no time had passed. You pulled open the curtain — your aunt's truck was parked in front of the house as if nothing had happened. How did you get back? The heavy flashlight you’d held onto all night was laying next to you in bed. 

A quick shower helped soothe your worried mind, the hot water massaging your sore limbs and helping you think. You bundled up in some fresh clothes and jumped into the truck again, flashlight in hand. Your mind began winding up even more as you drove into town. Jisung’s motorbike wasn't parked anywhere near the diner or the bookshop, so you ducked in to see the old proprietors of the coffee shop. 

“Hey,” you smiled, trying to look casual as you walked up to the counter. 

“Nothing better than someone who’s consistent,” Bill smirked. “Nice to see you again. Coffee?”

“No, thank you,” you grinned, “do either of you know where Jisung is?”

“Ah,” Fred waggled his eyebrows at you, “so you caught up with him last night?”

“Oh, uh,” you stumbled, “I had some books I wanted to lend him.”

“Sure,” Bill laughed, supposedly knowingly, “well, if you have books to lend him, of course. If he’s not at the shop, then he should be home. It’s tricky getting up there, though; hardly any street signs out that way.”

The men were nice enough to give you directions once they were done ribbing you, and you promptly thanked them and trotted back out to the truck, all the while hoping the growing wind chill masked the blush spread across your face. 

You drove back up the main street, up towards the cliffs at the top of the town's skyline. The woods grew more dense, crowding the road as the streetlights became more scarce. The truck wound its way up a woody drive, the trees finally peeling away to a clearing that revealed an immaculate, old Victorian. You found yourself gawking at the spires and weathervanes decorating the roof as you approached the porch. For some implacable reason, you felt a bit dumb ringing the doorbell of this perfect stranger in the middle of nowhere late at night. A ray of light hit the lawn from the upper level of the house as a curtain was pulled open. It took a couple of excruciating minutes for the figure in the window to warily approach the door, and then you were confronted with Jisung sizing you up on the threshold, surprised and looking much cozier than the other night dressed in a pullover and sweats. 

“What’re you—”

“How did I get home last night?”

Jisung bit his in-progress retort to a pause and sighed. He stepped aside and presented the entryway to you. “It’s freezing out there. You can come inside and I'll explain.”

You thought about it, fingers fidgeting as you weighed the options. You stepped across the threshold. Jisung led you into the foyer. You spied a sitting room gathering dust just off the entryway. Jisung started up the staircase, pausing halfway to check if you were following. Cautiously, you stepped up the creaky stairs after him, finding yourself walking into another sitting room up here. Stacks of books surrounded a few pillows sitting on the hearth of the fireplace, across from a plush couch and chaise lounge. Jisung held a hand out, motioning for you to take a seat on the couch while he plopped down on the lounge. You found yourself still taking in the room. A four-poster bed sat in the corner of the sizable space. Jisung caught your attention, watching him watching you observing the room. 

“So,” you prodded, “downstairs—”

“It’s in progress,” Jisung replied coolly, “there's a lot to clean up... Now that Mr. Shepherd isn’t using it. Besides, my room’s the warmest in the house right now. Didn't you want to know how you got home?”

You nodded. “All I know is I was talking to you, and then I woke up at my aunt’s house.”

Jisung simply shrugged. “It wasn’t a big deal. You fainted and I carried you back to the truck. We weren't far from the road. I just loaded my bike in the back and found the keys in your pocket. So I drove you back and put you in bed. Your aunt actually passed me on her way to work. She didn’t look like she had any idea, so I figured everything was fine.”

You watched him stiffly. Why did this feel hazardous, like you were crossing a rotting bridge? “Well,” you said carefully, “thank you. I appreciate it. Last night wasn't too fun.”

“It's alright,” Jisung smiled softly, “Mr. Shepherd had fainting spells, too.”

“Oh yeah?” You eyed him pointedly. 

“Yeah,” he nodded soberly, “During the daytime. He was sensitive to the sun.” Jisung’s hard gaze matched yours, sizing each other up again. Were you both aware of what neither of you were saying?

“Then I'm extra glad it was you that broke into the store.”

“I passed it when we were being chased but I got cut off in the woods again. So I turned back and there you were. And I'm glad it was you and not someone else.” Jisung’s cryptic expression made the hair on the back of your neck raise, the shadows cast by the fireplace giving any nuance in his face a mysterious edge to it. The heat of the room exaggerated the smell of venison, of sun-kissed buttercups. You shook off whatever oddly inviting sensation this was and got up from the couch and swiftly turned to leave. 

“Alright then, now that we cleared up what happened last night, I can get going. Thank—”

“When was the last time you fed?” 

You paused, frozen despite the warmth of the fire. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know why you’re hiding,” Jisung got up as well. He took one step closer. You took one step further away. “Again, when was the last time you fed? You went down too fast and too hard for it to have been recently.”

“Why do you care?”

“Look, I'll level with you. I've been a blood bag for years now, running errands for Mr. Shepherd during the day and keeping him fed.”

You watched as he lifted his pullover and the shirt underneath. Illuminated by the fire, you could see where under the line of his ribs, right above the definition of his smooth stomach, laid a thick scar.

“You’re a familiar?” You asked quietly, unbelieving. You'd heard about familiars, but only in books. They were hardly ever purported to still be around. Nevertheless, Jisung nodded as he dropped his shirt back down. 

“I mean, if you want to get formal about it, sure. But what I really was, was his friend. He took care of me. I would've done anything for him.”

This made sense, now that you thought about it. An offbeat working relationship and friendship like any other, just with this added element to it.

“Alright. So I'm reading you correctly. You’re offering—”

“I’m offering to help you.”

Your fingers twitched at the thought. You’d been getting increasingly hungrier since you came to town, but with that sensation came unease. This condition had brought you nothing but trouble. “Then tell me why you want to help me?”

“Because I want your help in return.”

The answer was so simple but nowhere near satisfying. You scoffed before you could stop yourself. “Oh, so a trade? And why should I help you?”

Jisung pushed a hand back through his hair. “You’ve dealt with these guys before. You’re smart. You can help me figure out what they’re doing and why.”

“And why would I want to do that?”

“Look,” Jisung said quietly. He took one step closer. You stood your ground. “I've lost my best friend. Our business is in shambles. I have a chance to fix  _ that _ , but I still can’t fix everything. This is all I have, trying to get back what’s rightfully mine and finding out why Mr. Shepherd had to die the way he did. It wasn’t humane. It wasn’t fair.”

The look in Jisung’s eyes nearly made your heart crumble. He truly was broken over this, and you couldn't blame him one bit. He took another step closer. You still held your ground. You could hear the waver in both of your breathing. 

“My whole life has been turned on its head,” he continued, “I'm sure you can relate. Helping Mr. Shepherd was part of my routine, my consistency, and that included feeding. And now it’s gone. Now I just live in a house that's too big and the walls are full of ghosts. Let me help you. If not for getting back what  _ we _ lost, then to help  _ me _ regain some control over my life.”

Jisung took another step closer. You took two steps back. This felt unfair to ask of you. It felt too big, too serious. You suddenly felt like a giant fool for coming out here. Not just to this house, but to the coast. Figure you did find Chan, what could he do? Would he really just tell you everything you wanted to know? This was dumb and reckless. 

“I'm sorry,” you murmured, turning heel and rushing down the stairs, leaving Jisung in your wake as you ran to the truck. You refused to look back as you caught him in your peripheral, watching you from the porch as you swung the truck back around and went flying down the drive. 

Back at the house, you sat on the bed by the window, watching the sun just begin to rise as you pensively sipped the last of some tea. You crawled under the covers, deep in thought. Did you want to let sleeping dogs lie?

* * *

Waking up the following night was much more graceful, considering you laid down for a rest before sun-up. Following this method, you've found you could maintain a sort of sleep schedule that felt like your old life. You were still horribly preoccupied. You were almost a ghost, drifting around the house and aimlessly distracting yourself from your growing hunger and the constant stream of thoughts running through your head. Could you take Jisung up on his offer? Would that be any good for you, or him for that matter? Should you just go back to school? Did you even want to find Chan anymore? 

One of these questions were answered as you sipped your first cup of coffee in bed, attempting to read and feel productive. You were startled as you heard a sound you hadn't heard since high school: a pebble bouncing off your window. Your fingers nervously peeled back the curtain, uncertain that you were really seeing what you were seeing. 

Chan. 

You crashed around the room, throwing on some jeans under your comfy flannel shirt and pulled on your coat. You ran downstairs as quietly as you could, tugging on your boots all the way. As you stepped out on the lawn, he looked so natural, just sitting on the rear bumper of the truck. You paused, taking in the sight of each other in the cold silence of the night before he rose to his feet. 

“I knew you’d be here,” he smiled breathlessly. He took one step closer; the only signal you needed. You closed the short distance in an instant, your arms flung around his neck in moments. He held you tight, his nose buried in the crook of your neck and breathing you in before you took his face in your hands. A new scar had appeared under his eye, moving in next door to the one still healing on the bridge of his nose. Even though you had imagined this moment over and over, you never expected Chan to take your face in his hands as well and eagerly press a chaste kiss to your lips. The sensation made your heart leap in your chest but you excused it, refusing to get too excited over what was probably just an impulse. 

You led him over to the porch swing and sat him down. His grabby hands reached back for you and pulled you down onto his lap. His fingers wandered your thighs and hips as he looked up at you expectantly. He didn’t look as if he could tell you had almost too many questions. In fact, he looked more like this was just a fun date. Well, you figured, if you wanted answers, you’d have to start somewhere. “What do you mean, you knew I'd be here?”

Chan looked down, absently focusing on his hands on your waist. “Me and the others split up around town to lay low. We move camps every two or three nights. We were right out  _ there— _ ” he explained, pointing out towards the dense woods flanking the property to the east, “when I saw you come home with your aunt that first night. But I didn't feel safe. I wasn't sure if you wanted to see me after what happened at the library.”

It was your turn to get lost in your staring, this time at his pulse beating in his neck. You shook yourself out of it. “For a second there, I was thinking the same thing.”

Chan nearly cooed for how gently he poked you in the ribs. “Oh, come on now. After what we did that night, how could I  _ not _ want to see you?” Your spine went rigid despite the set of hips under yours teasingly bucking up against you. Chan was oblivious, instead taking notice of his bandana poking out of the pocket of your coat. “Wait, is that mine?” He marveled. “What the hell? That’s so cute.  _ You’re _ so cu—”

“What do you mean  _ after what we did that night _ ?”

Chan scoffed lightheartedly despite your hard lean away. “Awh, come on, I'm just joking.”

You rose with a start, making him jump. “You’re joking? I’m not,” you said briskly. “I come here on some wild chance that I'll find you and, if not, at least try to get over that night back at the library. I want some closure and you just want to relive a good lay.”

“Come  _ on _ ,” Chan rolled his eyes, “that’s hardly what I meant. Besides, it wasn’t even the sex I was referring to. It was the feeding.”

“Fine,” you crossed your arms impatiently, “Let’s talk about the feeding. Namely, what the others were doing while it happened.”

Chan shifted uncomfortably on the swing. “I don't know.”

You laughed out loud, getting Chan to jump again. “Oh bull _ shit _ you don't know. Why the library? What did you steal?”

“I don't know. It doesn't matter.” His gaze hardened, watching you cautiously as his fists clenched and unclenched. 

“If it doesn't matter, then help me steal it back.”

“Excuse me?” Chan stood now, glaring down at you. Maybe he realized how reckless he was being, getting caught up in you like this. You stepped closer to him. 

“Don't act offended. You dragged me into this by letting me live,” you laughed meanly, stabbing a finger into his chest, “I feel used and lost and my pride is hurt, and I want to do what's right. Help me steal it back, whatever it is.”

Chan exhaled hard. “I honestly don’t know. The others won’t tell me. And I'm not going to help you steal it back.”

“Why not?” You asked rigidly. 

“ _ Because _ this is critical. I want to take these guys down. You want that, too, don’t you? Then I have to let them get away with it for a bit.”

“Fine,” you sighed, “then why prove to me that you’re here? I'm sure you figured I'd want some answers.”

“I—” Chan looked away, suddenly nervous, “I meant it about the feeding. I've been thinking about it ever since. It’d never happened to me before, but it definitely never sounded like  _ that _ when people described it to me, and the closer to the full moon we get, the crazier I get about it. I feel like I'm fucking mad about it, mad about  _ you _ .”

You cursed your gut for igniting at the sight of how much you could  _ see _ Chan meant it. Your hunger alone almost made you fall for it, let alone everything that attracted you to him that first night. However, you tried to remain focused, instead trying to see the almost pathetic desperation, the cloying affection masking his near-addiction. If he wanted you as anything more than that, you were confident he wouldn't even know for himself unless you gave in to him first. And you didn't want to give in to him. 

“Come on,” Chan pleaded, “please.” He took your hand, leading it to cradle his face again. His fingers guided yours back, back around to his hair at the nape of his neck where he led you to grip him roughly. “Help me,” he begged, “you can be in charge. I'll do whatever you want.”

“Then get out of here,” you said, trying your hardest to sound firm. 

“Baby, please—” Chan whined. 

“No. I'm not your baby. And if you're not helping me then I'm not helping you. Now leave, or I will.”

“Don't leave,” Chan ordered desperately, changing tactics as he grabbed your wrist. You wrenched it away and stepped off the porch. 

“Fine,” you snapped, “you get one more chance. Ready?”

Chan looked at you expectantly, eyes practically glistening at the prospect. 

“If you won't tell me what those assholes stole from the library, tell me what they stole from the bookstore. Tell me what they stole from Mr. Shepherd.”

And the shine in Chan’s eyes was gone. “So now you're caught up in that, too?”

You laughed again, now too impatient to care how mean you sounded. “ _ Caught up in that _ ? It’s not the latest town gossip or something. There’s a literal crime scene down on main street. He’s  _ dead _ , Chan, and that doesn’t just affect him. People cared about him, and good people at that. Tell me what you stole.”

Chan’s fists clenched firmly by his sides. “I can’t tell you,” he said quietly. 

“Alright then. Come back when you want to help me,” you affirmed. Chan watched helplessly as you climbed into the truck and started it. He vanished in your rearview as you tore off down the drive. You drove furiously, unsure of what to do and what to expect from him now. 

* * *

You pulled the truck down the alley behind the bookshop, stomping the brake and squinting in the dark for any sign of Jisung’s bike. The alley was empty and quiet, devoid of the motorbike as you searched around. You tested the doorknob at the rear entrance for the bookshop, momentarily surprised as it softly clicked open.  _ Fair enough _ , you supposed,  _ makes sense _ . What’s the worst that could happen? The store could get robbed all over again? 

The door creaked as you cautiously let yourself in, gently shutting it behind you and taking in the shop’s backroom. The space was crowded, cozy, with spare stock lining the floor and shelves surrounding a small rolltop desk with accounting ledgers and notebooks on it. A single lamp barely illuminated the space in here. You leaned in to inspect the desk when a small sound in a minor breeze caught your attention. You turned your head to the source: a broken line of caution tape at the door that lead to the shop proper. 

Stepping inside, you were immediately taken with the smell of aged books, but not without a faintly menacing hint of blood. The shop was surprisingly stuffed considering its wares and how small the space appeared to be. There could be books spanning centuries in here but it would still take you weeks — maybe even months — to figure that out for yourself. The store was truly intimate, a winding maze of shelves that gave way to a comfortable couch and some easy chairs gathered around a coffee table at the back of the floor. Like any good place to read a book, it felt like you could escape and unwind here. That is, before the place had been trashed. 

The destruction was mostly contained at the center of the shop floor, but that still encompassed multiple shelves of books. Ripped pages and bindings joined ravaged books on the floor, some still dotted with errant specks of blood. You carefully stepped around the mess and found yourself at the counter. The rest of the lights were off in the store, save for one lonely floor lamp standing guard over the register, the thick shade casting just enough light over the countertop and wall behind it. A framed photo hanging there quickly caught your attention and you stooped in to inspect: a tiny, jolly old man, his crinkled eyes turned up in a smile as he had an arm slung around Jisung’s shoulders right where you stood. The caption penned in the corner of the photo in pointy script read, “ _ J’s first day as partner. _ ” You were suddenly incredibly curious as to how old this vampire had been. Really, Mr. Shepherd looked old enough to be Jisung’s natural grandfather, which made your chest ache. What had happened for him to turn at such an old age? More photos sat on the shelf beneath the picture frame. Jisung posing with his new motorbike, Jisung by himself pointing at their new sign that proudly proclaimed reinstated daytime hours, Mr. Shepherd smiling next to a new computer and a load of new books he never thought he could get from all over the world. A memo pad sat next to the photos, right under the phone hanging on the wall. You picked it up as you noticed the last date was fairly recent, and held it close to read in the dim store. Scrawled on top, indented with the ghosts of previous notes that had been written before, was Jisung’s chaotically neat print. 

_ Shep, _

_ Forgot to grab the mail today. I'll be right back to do inventory with you.  _

_ -J _

“You know, that was the first time I ever forgot to grab the mail,” came a sullen laugh behind you. You whirled around, catching Jisung standing down the aisle in the doorway to the backroom. He was back in his worn denim jacket, this time over a well-used hoodie. The sudden panic in your chest dulled. “It’s weird,” he continued pensively, “how tiny things can have these giant consequences. I slept in, so I was running late, so I didn’t go to the post office, so I had to get the mail that night when I remembered... so I wasn't here. I should've been here.”

“Jisung…” You started, but you had no idea how to continue. Jisung took a tentative step over the threshold onto the shop floor. 

“It's just bizarre, you know?” He continued, half-heartedly caressing spines of books as he passed. “You live this normal enough life, and something happens because of the tiniest thing and you feel like you'll never be the same again.”

“I get that,” you empathized, kneeling down to a scattered pile of books on the floor and picking them up. He watched, almost shocked that anyone could even begin to clean this mess he'd been avoiding. “You go on the wrong date,” you continued, “and the rest of your life changes and you never get to experience noon again. You swing back by the office to grab something you forgot, and you almost get whisked away by a pack of wolves.”

Jisung finally stopped watching, now squatting down next to you to help make the smallest dent in the carnage of the store. “So even after they robbed you, they almost took you?” He shook his head in muted anger. “Sounds about right.”

The hair on the back of your neck bristled. That sentiment sounded familiar. “They’re not all bad. They’re just as lost as we are. One of them convinced the rest to leave me behind. I was sort of hoping I'd find him out here. He was a good guy.”

“Well he must've moved on. One of them killed Mr. Shepherd. The rest watched. No good guys to be seen.”

You pictured the shadow of the wolf that had finally ordered the rest of the pack to leave you that night at the library. The book in your hand slipped from your fingertips, the thud on the floor making you jump. “I thought you weren't here.”

“I wasn’t. By the time I got here, he was already practically... dead.” He struggled with the words, the quiver in his quiet voice not helping much. “I got here in time to watch him die. So I may as well have not been here at all.” 

You stacked the rest of the books that had sat in your arm, alphabetically by author’s last name by your feet on the floor. You hadn’t thought to ask Jisung how the store was organized, instead just doing what made sense at the moment to get things a little less chaotic. Books were easy. People, as a general rule, weren't. You found yourself unsure of how to help make Jisung a little less chaotic himself. What felt right was to gently place your hand on his between picking up books. He paused, just experiencing the sensation for a moment. 

“How long have you been like this?” He asked thoughtfully. 

“Only a couple of years,” you shrugged. 

“Really?” Jisung’s eyes brightened with a surprised smile. “You’re practically a newborn!”

You'd laughed about it, your hand still lingering on his as you both moved to sit and relax on the floor now that there was a little more room. 

“Was it hard to adjust? Mr. Shepherd would tell me he didn’t remember what it was like starting out.” Jisung still held onto your hand, now absently playing with your fingers. To be honest, you didn’t mind it. 

You thought back. It felt like decades had passed since that first night. “I cried a  _ lot _ ,” you smirked darkly, “I grieved, you know? And you know the worst part?”

“What?”

“That asshole never called me back like he said he would.”

That did it. Jisung relaxed, letting out a hearty laugh that you hadn't heard yet. Now that you heard it, you just wanted to hear it again. 

“Don't get me started,” you continued with a grin, “I hadn't even thought about those growing pains again until just now, and for good reason, apparently. The first time I fed was a  _ disaster _ .”

“Oh god,” Jisung chuckled, “did you have  _ anyone _ to help you learn the ropes?” 

“Not yet,” you admitted, breathless as Jisung’s laughter pulled more from you as well until he paused. The shift in his focus was stark. You were taken aback as Jisung pulled your hand to turn you more towards him where you both sat on the floor. He lifted a hand to your face, softly cupping your cheek. The scent of venison and spring buttercups flooded your senses and you almost felt dizzy taking him in. You observed him curiously as he gently pulled at your cheek to look at your eyes. 

“What are you—”

“Look how glazed over your eyes are,” he noted casually, now gingerly turning your chin to get a better look, “You still haven't fed since I last saw you.”

“Well, I— I mean that I— No. Not I haven't,” you admitted sheepishly, painfully embarrassed as you already felt the points of your canines threatening to emerge at the mere  _ mention _ of feeding. 

“Come  _ on _ ,” Jisung nudged you. “Let me help.”

“Jisung—” you began warily.

“Trust me. Please?”

The last time a guy asked you to trust them, you’d fallen down this entire rabbit hole. However, Jisung felt genuine to you. You nodded, nearly smitten with how his eyes lit up before you leaned in closer. Your breath barely ghosted over his jugular when he jumped.

“Wait— what are you doing?”

You leaned away fast, terrified that you may have scared him. “What do you mean,  _ what am I doing? _ ”

“You mean,” Jisung babbled, “you really do…  _ That _ ?” Eyes wide, he vaguely gestured towards his neck. 

Now you were just confused. “Alright, Mr. Blood Bag, how did Mr. Shepherd do it?”

“Well, I mean, he didn’t want to make it weird for me. I showed you what he did.”

Recalling the other night, you brazenly reached for the bottom of Jisung’s shirt, startling him into falling back against the bookshelf. You rose back to your knees in hopes of getting a better look. He watched curiously as you inspected and pored over the scar before setting his shirt back down. 

“So, you've never had it any other way?” You asked, almost unbelieving. Jisung simply shook his head, still observing you. “I’m trusting you. Do you trust me?” At this he nodded. You inhaled deep through your nose to balance out your breath, catching the pulse in Jisung’s throat hinting that he was trying to do the same. If he'd never had it this way, you figured, then he deserved a nice first time. You leaned forward, between his spread knees where he leaned back on the floor so that you were right back where you started, your breath hot on his throat. Jisung shivered as the tips of your canines grazed over his skin and you placed a soft hand on the other side of his neck to hold him steady. “Inhale,” you quietly instructed in his ear, wanting to do whatever you could to make this good for both of you. Jisung nodded intrepidly and you waited to hear, to  _ feel _ him take in a good lungful of air before you sank your extended teeth into his skin.

His first gasp nearly set you on fire, finding it endearing as he clutched your arm for support in his shock. You were energized by such a positive sign, and even more so as he failed to bite back a low groan. The first layer of blood on your tongue hit you harder than you predicted, an uncontrollable moan from your craving escaping you and making Jisung freeze against you. In just that instant, both yours and his hands reached, grabbing onto each other as you gained more firm purchase over the skin of his neck. You weren’t seeing stars like you had with Chan, but something about the near innocence of your embrace invigorated you. 

Growing dizzy in the high that blood this fresh always gave you, you felt emboldened as you crawled into his lap on the floor of the bookshop. You pulled away from Jisung’s neck, practically coming up for air. He looked up at you with something akin to impressed adoration, his own glazed eyes mirroring your own now. Swept up in all this spontaneity, you found yourself leaning in, following some force that was pulling you together — that is, until the distinct sound of a sniffle and a wavering breath perked your ears up. 

“Jisung?” You asked quietly, trying to get him to look at you. “Are you al-”

“What, am I alright?” Jisung chuckled flippantly, “Yeah, I'm fine.”

You slid off of his lap, watching as he turned away. He roughly pulled the sleeve of his jacket across his face. 

“Jisung—” you lightly chided, surprised as he got to his feet. He paced the floor, pushing a hand through his hair and trying to calm himself down. 

“I'm  _ fine _ ,” he insisted with a grin. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes and sigh, getting to your feet as well and following him as his pacing carried him down the aisle. You gently grabbed his hand and turned him around, pulling your handkerchief out of your coat pocket and blotting up some of the blood still wet on his neck. He stiffly pulled away like a kid from their mother when they try to pat down a cowlick. 

“You’re not  _ fine _ ; you’re  _ upset _ .” You lamented, trying not to get distracted by how appealing the congealing blood on his neck looked. 

“I'm  _ not _ upset, I'm  _ angry _ ,” he grumbled. 

“Maybe you  _ should _ be upset. You can't just be angry.”

Jisung batted your hand away with an exhausted laugh. “It’s not that easy.”

“What, confronting your feelings? It’s not supposed to be all the time. That’s why it’s called a confrontation.”

He side-eyed you, apparently relieved that you could keep up with him. His shoulders softened as he let out a deep sigh. Swiftly, he pulled away from you once more. He paced a few more steps to the end of the aisle, head hanging, before he stopped. You could see as he defeatedly shook his head from behind. 

“I guess I haven't let myself admit that I'm  _ really _ fucking lonely now,” he let out a tired chuckle, “I never realized how spending so much time around someone really affects you until they're gone. So with you around, and doing  _ this… _ I guess it’s a little overwhelming.”

“Jisung,” you light-heartedly admonished as you gently took his hand again and pulled him around to look at you, “if I had realized sooner then we could've stopped. I got greedy. You gave me more than enough to get me through. I just, sort of — I dunno, I like being around you; I feel like you understand where I'm coming from, and I got carried away, and —” You let out a muffled squeak, your rambling cut short by Jisung’s hands cupping your face and his lips finding yours in the dark. You reactively pressed your hands to his chest and pushed him back. Jisung stared, embarrassed and just a bit confused. 

“Oh,” he blinked, “I'm sorry. I was just — like a minute ago when you were feeding, I thought — I mean I was going to —” 

You couldn’t help but grin, content enough with Jisung's apparently innocent intentions to match your own. You didn't need a soulmate or a boyfriend, you just needed someone to be close to for a bit, something you felt like Jisung understood despite his shock as you grabbed onto the collar of his jacket and yanked him close, kissing him with vigor as you fell back against the bookshelf. Jisung’s arms wrapped around your waist, hugging you close to him as he stepped back. 

“Come on,” he urged against your lips, “you don’t have to cut yourself off; I can do more.”

He stepped back again, tripping back onto the couch in the reading nook at the back of the store and pulling you down on top of him as you kissed. 

“Jisung,” you countered nervously, “I really think I'm fine, it’s enough for now--”

You were interrupted once again as Jisung scratched at the drying wound on his neck, getting it exposed again and dipping a thumb into it. 

“Come  _ on _ ,” he pleaded again, “don’t lie to me. You need it.  _ I _ need it.”

Before you could protest, his fingers delicately but firmly cupped your face, his thumb tracing the line of your bottom lip and smudging a drop of blood along it. The hair on the back of your neck stood on end. The sensation raged through you and you could practically feel your eyes dilate as your lips closed around his thumb, sucking it dry before releasing. Reluctantly, you pushed yourself away and sat up on his lap, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. His hands reached after you, holding onto your thighs as if he were afraid you were going to run away. 

“Sorry,” he breathed, “I need it so badly. I need  _ you _ so badly.”

“I know,” you empathized, “I just don’t want to get carried away.”

“You won’t.”

“And if I do?” You insisted. 

“Then I'll stop you. It’ll be fine.”

You chewed on your lip, weighing the consequences. Your eyes wandered over Jisung, his chest rising and falling with each shaking, desperate breath. He looked up at you, eyes pleading and adoring and so,  _ so _ needy. The unmistakable feeling of a developing erection pressed up against you where your hips met, and it only served to cloud your judgement further. Your eyes darted from the wound on his neck, leaking down onto his hoodie, to his lips slightly parted with each bated breath, to his eyes anxiously waiting for you to decide. And you decided.

You were still hungry. 

Your fingers delicately brushed his fringe out of his eyes, caressing his face before stroking your fingers back into his hair and roughly gripping him. He grunted as you guided his head to the side, opening up the access you had to the expanse of his neck. His breathing almost stopped entirely as your teeth grazed his skin, his hands clutching tight onto your waist. When you finally pierced through him for only the second time of the night, you both moaned, grabbing onto each other and practically shivering in pleasure. Blood washed warm over your tongue, nearly making you whimper from finally satisfying your hunger. And, thankfully, you didn't feel yourself overdoing it. For as much as you eagerly scratched and languidly lapped at Jisung’s neck, you thankfully found the bloodlust in your gut die down. And, for as much as you worked him over, he let you do it. He held fast onto you, groaning and hissing through the intermittent pain. His hips rolled up against yours as you fed, a response you figured he was just as surprised with himself. Something sparked in the back of your mind, making up for the lack of stars you’d seen when you'd fed on Chan, a ghost, a shadow loosely resembling affection for the man moaning under you. It was odd to feel connected like this, to be so comfortable with someone you hardly knew, but you wanted to enjoy it while it lasted. 

Jisung’s hands stayed firmly around your waist until you guided them to the buttons of your flannel shirt. “Wait,” he chuckled nervously, “are you sure--”

“We’re not done yet.  _ This _ is still open,” you explained as you playfully poked him in the open wound on his neck, making him jump and curse, “and besides. I want it. I want  _ you _ .”

He couldn’t resist, just as you couldn't before, and he slid your coat off of you before he resumed what you had led him to do with your shirt. Jisung carefully unbuttoned your shirt and slipped it off of you, immediately taking notice of your skin raising in goosebumps as he admired you. A basket sat on the floor by the couch and he quickly excused himself for just a moment to lean over and rummage through it and grab a blanket to drape over your shoulders before he unzipped his hoodie. He shimmied out of his jacket underneath you and worked off his shirt, these joining the growing pile of clothes on the floor as you both kicked off your boots. You huddled under the blanket with him, the warmth of his breath on your neck mirroring yours as you nuzzled against him. Your fingers danced along his collarbones and down his smooth chest. 

“How many other girls get to enjoy this blanket?” You teased, giggling against his neck with him as you lazily licked up the rest of the blood you'd let out for yourself. 

“ _ Excuse you _ ,” he laughed, “I happen to like reading on this couch when there's no customers, thank you very much.”

“And how often are there no customers?”

“We sell used and rare books in a tourist town on the beach. When are there  _ ever _ customers? Why do you think I can afford to take my time cleaning up around here?” You shared a laugh together before you pulled his lips to yours again, your tongues mingling in a way that made him moan deep. When you finally pulled back, the blood that you'd smeared against his mouth contrasted against his skin in the prettiest way. 

“Well then,” you offered, the lilt in your voice hinting at things to come, “maybe once we’re done here we can work on cleaning up some more.”

“I’d really like that,” he replied breathlessly, gasping as he felt your hand search under the blanket for his hard-on. “You seem like you know what you’re doing,” he smirked. 

“It’s useful to know what you’re doing when you're trying to get what you want.” You sat back, now further down on his thighs as you worked his belt and jeans open. Your hands traveled up the lines of his taut stomach, making you both wince as your fingers brushed over the thick scar on his ribs. “Are you alright?” You asked softly. 

He nodded heavily, almost like he was refusing to get emotional again in a moment like this. “Yeah. I'm fine. I'm just really glad you're here. Helps me stay focused.” Just as you were about to question what exactly he was focused on, Jisung’s hands suddenly found purchase on the waistband of your jeans, pushing them down and apparently trying to remember to breathe as he came across your panties underneath. You backed up off of his lap, shrugging off the blanket for a moment as you shuffled off your jeans onto the floor as well. A muffled exclamation sprang from him as you laid back on the couch, pulling him on top of you with another kiss. Once he pulled the warm blanket back over the both of you, his hands joined yours in pulling your dampening panties off and dropping them to the floor. Just as he went to push his briefs and jeans further down, you stopped him. 

“Both of us don’t have to freeze to do this,” you smirked, “now keep me warm.”

Jisung grinned as he nodded and kissed you again, one of his hands traveling between your bodies to see just how wet you were getting for him. Pleased, he tested his hard length in his grip before you felt it nudge up against your entrance. You gasped as he smoothly slid inside you, Jisung’s warm hands all over you as he slowly, almost lovingly thrust into you. Your hands wrapped around him, your nails occasionally digging into his back when he thrust a little more roughly. 

“Jisung,” you pleaded, “fuck me.”

“Anything,” he reassured you, “anything you want.”

“Awh,” you cooed, “anything?”

“Anything,” he reaffirmed, “you’re a fucking princess for how much I'd give you.”

Jisung was nearly too lost in his rough thrusts against you, but he still noticed the small grimace you made at the pet name. His hips slowed. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you grinned after shaking yourself out of it, “I’m just glad you’re here. You keep me focused, too.”

Jisung nodded, his smile matching yours as he tipped your chin up to kiss him again. He pulled you up against him, sitting back on the couch and setting you on his lap. You held him tight, one hand on his shoulder and the other in his hair as you rocked your hips against his. Your pert nipples caught his attention from where you sat on his lap, his arms wrapped tight around your waist as he closed his lips on your breast. A shiver ran up your spine at the apparently intimate gesture. You almost felt light-headed, the first hints of an orgasm coming to mind when Jisung leaned you back enough just to press a thumb to your clit as you rode him. 

“Mmph, Jisung,” you whined for him, “you think you can cum with me?”

“No, no, wait,” he breathed, “bite me again--”

“Again?” You asked, grabbing onto his shoulders to help even out your quickened pace on his warm cock. 

“Yeah,” he nodded desperately, “it felt amazing. It hurts in the best way.”

You sighed, considering if you even really wanted to say no before nodding and kissing his forehead. You leaned back, the cool fabric of the old couch meeting your back once more as you pulled him back down on top of you. Jisung kissed your hungrily, his hips bucking hard against yours as he continued massaging your clit. This time, as he moved his head aside, his lips found your neck and you simpered, loving the way he so gently pressed kisses to your pulse and grazed his teeth over your skin. 

One of your ankles hooked back over his hip, your other leg spread wide so he could keep rubbing you closer to orgasm as you caressed his head to the side. Your hunger satiated, your teeth wouldn’t extend much by just willing them to, but you were still able to sink enough of the tips into his fresh wound. The sensation alone moved you to the precipice of your climax, the way Jisung tensed against you enough to push you over the edge. You pulled him to you for another brutal kiss, the copper taste of blood smearing against both your tongues as you whined into your orgasm. His hips faltered, his hand clutching tight onto you as he came along with you. Jisung’s cum flowed hot into you while he held you close, gasping for breath and whispering thanks and gratitude and sweet nothings in your ear until his hips finally stilled. 

The both of you stayed like that, holding each other close until Jisung slowly eased out of you. He kissed your lips, your cheeks, your nose, your forehead -- everywhere as you smiled and took it. 

“Did we really take that long?” He asked incredulously, peering out at the tall windows peeking out over the tops of the shelves at the front of the store. Over the thick valances, the first hints of orange were starting to streak in through the window. 

“Oh, shit,” you grumbled, “do I have time to get home?”

Jisung rummaged around in the pile of clothes on the floor to find his phone and checked to make sure. He shook his head as he found your phone as well and handed it to you. Sure enough, you didn’t hear your phone buzzing on silent as the alarm went off. 

“What do I do?” You lamented. 

Jisung leapt to his feet as he began pulling his clothes back on. “You can crash here,” he gladly offered. “I'll do the same thing I did the other night and sneak the truck back to your aunt’s. If the truck is there she’ll probably just assume you’re in your room anyhow.” He shrugged on his hoodie and jacket before you stopped him. 

“Wait,” you laughed, “you’re a damn mess.” You spied a scarf on the coat rack by the counter and grabbed it before wrapping it around his neck to cover the bites and blood. “So,” you prodded, “I crash here and you get the truck back… Then what?”

“Then I'll take care of my usual errands and get a head start on cleaning the shop before nightfall. Besides, maybe once I get some inventory done in here I can finally figure out what all was stolen.”

“Yeah,” you nodded with a smile, “that actually sounds great. I'd really like that.”

Jisung grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around your shoulders before rummaging through your coat on the floor for the keys. “I’d better hurry; I want to get back to the diner and get some coffee before the day waitress comes.” And, with that, he kissed your cheek before rushing out the backdoor. 

You bundled up in the blanket, contemplating how much you wanted to get dressed again before falling asleep as the sun slowly crept through the window. Outside, the truck rattled to life and slowly sputtered down the alley, not getting enough time to warm up. The blanket smelled thick with Jisung’s scent, making that oddly affectionate tug in your gut feel stronger. The cozy space of the bookshop felt that much cozier at dawn, welcoming the warm surroundings as you sat back on the couch when you heard a clatter in the back room. You sprang to your feet, the tiredness already starting to weigh you down as you stepped closer to see what must have fallen over. That is, if whatever fell over happened to smell like veal, like mahogany and fires on the beach. 

“Well, it sure  _ smells _ like you've been here--” Came a voice from the back room. You stiffened, hand tight on your phone. 

Chan stepped into the shop. You took two steps back. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” You asked, eyes narrowed. 

“The better question,” Chan laughed, “is who leaves the back door unlocked? I was grabbing a bite to eat and remembered you mentioned the old man and the bookstore, so I thought I'd look for you here. Sure enough, the back door is open and all I smell is you.” He circled closer, eyeing you up and down in your blanket. “And you’ve been busy, I see,” he pouted, “is that why you wouldn’t give it to me?”

“That’s none of your business,” you spat, lacking the proper strength at the moment to struggle as he grabbed onto you and pulled you close. 

“Princess,” he cooed, “baby, please, just feed on me and I'll be good.”

“I'm all full, but thanks anyways,” you glared at him. He leaned back, stunned and disgusted. 

“Who the fuck--”

“ _ Hey! _ ” Came Jisung’s voice from the front door, the bell at the front signaling an arrival. You struggled against Chan now, who just stood his ground and clamped a hand over your mouth. Sleep threatened to take hold any moment now. “You know, locking the back door might be a good idea now that there’s someon--” 

Jisung froze at the end of the aisle. The two men stared each other down before Chan finally let you go. You stumbled back a step. 

“The shopkeeper’s lackey?!” He laughed boisterously, “You won't give it to me all of a sudden, but you’ll give it to  _ him _ ?”

Chan let out another mean laugh before Jisung suddenly drove forward the few steps it took to tackle into Chan’s chest. Both men fell to the floor as you sank down onto the couch, exhausted and fading fast. Jisung had the upper hand in making the first move, pinning Chan under him and landing blow after blow on him. Chan cursed wildly and attempted to fight him off. 

“ _ You goddamn son of a bitch _ ,” Jisung roared, “ _ you fucking murderer! _ ”

You sprang to your feet, desperate to help, but both men only turned to notice in time for you to collapse. 

You slept. 

**To be continued. **

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted as a mystery member fic on skzctnightnight.tumblr.com!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Reader has to help figure out where to go from here when Shepherd's will is executed. What's inside this mysterious journal Jisung has inherited?

You awoke with a gasp, bolting upright from where you lay, almost as if you were just now finishing your collapse from the previous night. It felt like a small blessing to find that you were still on the couch in the reading nook of the bookstore. The only curiosity was that you found yourself clothed once again. 

A clatter down one of the aisles startled you and you got up, warily stepping past a badly splintered bookshelf. Jisung was picking up a stack of books, presumably having tried to carry too many in the first place. It was his turn to be surprised as he whirled around to see you. You winced at the violet bruise on his cheek, and he softened as he realized you weren’t some intruder. 

“You’re up? Is it that time already?” He asked incredulously, more to himself than to you. “I’ve been cleaning all afternoon and I feel like I got nothing done. Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, reshuffling your thoughts into place as you finished waking up, “did you get me dressed?”

“Of course,” Jisung shrugged, “I figured it’d be no fun to wake up after a night like that and find yourself still naked.”

You smiled softly at the sentiment, helping Jisung pick up the rest of his stack. 

“So you fucked the wolf,” he said plainly, catching you off guard and not looking at you anymore. You fumbled your books onto the floor and all you could do was stare at them for a moment before sighing and picking them back up. 

“Did he tell you that?”

Jisung laughed sarcastically with an exaggerated nod. He still wouldn’t look at you. “Yeah. He told me. That’s, like, all he could tell me. _Stupid worm, she’s too good for you, worthless trash, you don’t deserve those bites_ – take your pick. It all sucked.”

You reached over and delicately examined the bruise on Jisung’s face, bearing through his grimace and looking him over. It took him a moment to lean into your hand, almost as if he missed you. 

“And, of course,” Jisung continued, “he beat the crap out of me, so that was no fun, either. The whole encounter was growling and laughing and _so much punching_.”

“I’m so sorry, Jisung.” It was a terrible line, but what else could you say? You felt awful, terrible, like you did this to him. Maybe you did. You roped him into this, just like Chan did to you. 

“It’s fine. He came to his senses and left when he realized you’re no good to him asleep. No kidding, he said that – _she’s no good to me asleep_. What a creep.” 

You shook off the uncontrollable shiver that spiked down your back at the thought, that Chan’s desperation was affecting him in such a way. 

“What even happened between the two of you?” Jisung asked. “Is that why you’re involved in all this?”

“No, Jisung, I promise. I had no idea he was wrapped up in this when I met him and he had no idea I worked at the library.”

“You know you can’t trust him, right?” Jisung gave you a hard stare, shelving the books in his arms and pausing with his arms crossed. You mirrored him. 

“Of course. I don’t need you to tell me that.”

“Good. Because that monster killed Shepherd and the last thing I need is you holding a torch for the guy.”

“Excuse me?” You shifted your weight, leaning in to Jisung’s personal space now. His eyebrows raised, part annoyed, part surprised at your intensity. He squared up. 

“Which part do you want me to clarify?”

“Start from the top,” you shot back indignantly, keeping toe to toe with him. 

“Fine. He killed Shepherd. I got back from the post office and the store was trashed, and the whole pack watched while that _creature_, that _asshole_–” Jisung stopped, choked up and still shaken from his recollection. You softened but stood your ground. You still didn’t want to believe him. _I care about innocent people getting hurt, **they** don’t._ The words still ricocheted in your skull and garnished every thought that passed. Chan cared if innocent people got hurt, so he couldn’t have killed Shepherd. It was as simple as that. 

“What did he do, Jisung?” You asked quietly, tamping down the quiver in your voice. You had to know what he believed, see if it made any sort of sense with your understanding of this whole surreal mess. 

“Just what I said he did,” Jisung grumbled, still trying to navigate this cloud of grief and confusion hanging over him, “he killed Shep. I got here and the store was a wreck, and Shepherd was trying to fight off that _monster_. Alone. The rest of the pack was just staring at me, like I was interrupting or something. Your wolf friend was yelling something but I couldn’t even tell what through all that was going on. Next thing I knew, he pushed Shep onto that broken bookshelf over there. Stabbed. Impaled. I told you it wasn’t fair, what they did to him. That asshole killed him, and they all watched before they dragged the stupid wolf away.”

Your gaze drifted from Jisung’s misty eyes to the ravaged bookshelf he’d gestured towards, the same you passed on your way into the aisle to find him. Chunks were missing now, likely in some evidence locker somewhere, matching the evidence tags that were left in their place. Your mind pulled in all directions before settling on the one that made the most sense. 

“Maybe it wasn’t what it looked like,” you offered after a pregnant pause. Jisung eyes snapped towards you, narrowing in his resumed anger. 

“Excuse me?” He asked carefully. 

“Maybe it wasn’t what it looked like,” you repeated, getting a little more confident now, “there has to be something you missed. Chan saved my life. He wouldn’t have killed Shepherd, and definitely not willingly.”

“I can’t fucking believe you,” Jisung spat with a laugh, “I thought I could trust you.”

“You can!” You threw back. “I just think there has to be more to this.”

“I don’t think so,” Jisung scoffed, “it all looks pretty plain to me. But whatever, take that monster’s side. I can do this on my own. I was just fine before you came along, anyhow.”

“If you’d just listen for a second–” 

“For what?!” Jisung snapped. You backed up a step as he got more heated. “So you can tell me I didn’t see what I’m positive I did? Try to convince me that the scene waking me up every night didn’t really happen? Are you going to tell me this ‘Chan’ is actually some hero? I can’t believe you,” Jisung lamented miserably, “I really can’t.”

Jisung shook his head, turning his back on you as he picked up more books and roughly reshelved them. Each book made a racket as he shoved them back into place. Your fists clenched where your arms were crossed. The tug-of-war happening in your head only worsened. Finally, you turned your back as well. In fact, you walked straight out the door. 

Jisung didn’t say a word as you left, stinging more than you’d liked to admit. Only problem was, once you walked out the door, you realized Jisung really was too good to you. The truck was gone. You checked around the back of the store — there really was no sign of it. Even after the brawl with Chan that morning, Jisung still got the truck back to your aunt’s. You bundled up, tucking into your coat with a sigh and beginning the trek up the main road, up towards the A-frame up in the hills. The hike would probably be no problem with so much on your mind. 

Why were you suddenly so concerned with Chan being innocent or not? He was a pig, a horrid dog with a regrettably handsome face and charming personality that more than likely wanted nothing more than to play nice until you gave in and fed on him again. You could see right through him the other night in the front yard, pretending to be so sweet and so sincere that all you could see was desperation. So, then, why did your mind keep tumbling through your memories and pulling up how he looked the night you’d met, the way he’d smiled at you across the bar, the way he’d looked at you after he was able to leave you alive at the library? It felt ridiculous to think that Chan might be a cold-blooded murderer, but why? Just because he told you he’s a good guy? No, you realized, he could very well be the monster Jisung insisted he was, and you were probably a blind fool for ever denying it. 

Something in the way Jisung had spat the word was eating at you. _Monster_. Jisung wasn’t lying to you.You didn’t doubt that he saw Shepherd die. However, whether it was by Chan’s sole doing you still couldn’t bring yourself to be sure. 

The conflicting ideologies bounced around in your head as you climbed the hill to your aunt’s house, arms crossed in an attempt to shield yourself from the cold. Now you were just consumed with the look in Jisung’s eyes when you’d fed on him. What was keeping you from being a monster? Did you look just as lost as he did? Were you just as broken, reeling and coping from such recent proximity to death? Jisung’s admission of being _really fucking lonely now_ hit a little too close to home for your liking. You’d been lonely for a while now, too. It was easy to be a recluse when almost all your friends from your previous life were day-dwellers and you were still too ashamed to reveal yourself to your family. Maybe wanting to find your way again was what was keeping you from being a monster. You’d hoped so, because the feeling was beginning to become too familiar. You’d finally found someone close to a kindred spirit for the first time in a couple years, so why were you insistent on doubting him? It was all too much. Instead of going straight inside the creaky old house, you rounded back to the patio, pulling up a seat at the fire pit. Suddenly, your aunt appeared on the back porch, wrapped in a blanket with two mugs of coffee. 

“Hey!” She called out, “Did you just come out here? I thought you were still in your room when I saw the truck in the yard but I finally went to your room today and you were gone! I’ve been wondering where you are all day. I got up to see you! Were you out with a boy? I heard word at the diner that you’ve been palling around with Mr. Shepherd’s boy.” She gushed, hitting you like a fire hose and topping it off with an actual wink. 

You blushed, sinking into your chair as she rushed over and pulled up a seat next to you. Now you were suddenly feeling very aware that you were wearing yesterday’s clothes. Did _she_ know that? Your aunt was just as warm and welcoming as ever, expressing how much she missed you now that you were nocturnal. How could you see that sunrise you loved so much as a child? If only she knew how far down that sentiment stung. She asked if you thought you’d like to see a therapist. You know, because of your aversion to sleep. Her support caught you by surprise. Would she understand if you explained more? You knew you were still too scared to try, but you couldn’t help but hold onto some hope. You drifted through the conversation, oddly confronted and comforted at the same time at how she insisted on reaching out. As you finally bid her goodnight and climbed into bed, you felt restless, cramped and worried thinking of both Chan and Jisung and wondering if they were alright. 

You stayed in bed when you awoke the next night. Whether it was out of spite or stress, you weren’t sure, but you were done for the day and it had just started. That is, until a rumble sounded in the driveway. Your aunt could be heard opening the front door, squealing a cheerful greeting to someone. 

_Jisung?_

You slumped out of bed and pulled on a sweater and some jeans, barely retaining the stamina to deal with this as you headed downstairs. The sound of your aunt’s gushing preceded your shock at just what you were seeing in the yard. 

Jisung stood in front of a gorgeous car, an old Shelby Mustang in starkly perfect condition. Jisung was a sight as well with his hair pushed back, a simple black jacket revealing a pressed shirt and tie underneath. You were taken aback, caught off guard by how handsomely he cleaned up until he grabbed your attention. 

“It’s so nice to see you, too,” he placated your aunt as he gestured towards you, “but do you mind if I–?”

“If you–? Oh! Of course, you two go right on ahead,” she practically fluttered waving you both off as Jisung smiled cordially. His eyes were _screaming_. He reached forward, grabbing the cuff of your sleeve and pulling you off the porch and leading you back around to the fire pit again. You looked back over your shoulder, to him, and back to the car again. 

“Where did you– why are you–” you stammered as he tugged you along. You resumed your previous seat at the fire pit, this time Jisung taking your aunt’s place. 

“I’ve had a weird day. I knew Shep’s will was going to be executed, but I didn’t realize it would be today.”

“You didn’t?”

“No. A lawyer showed up to the house this morning and invited me to come back to his office. No one else was there. Just me.”

“So you got–?”

“Everything.” Jisung’s eyes were wild at the re-telling. You didn’t blame him. It was a lot to take. “The house, the store, his money… The car. I’ve never seen it before but sure enough the lawyer just had it there for me.”

“Jisung,” you soothed, finally reaching a hand forward to put on his knee, “that’s really exciting. Mr. Shepherd really cared about you.”

Jisung stared at your hand on his knee, but he didn’t move it. “There was more. A journal.”

“A journal?” You asked quizzically. He nodded furiously.

“A journal. Shepherd’s. It was on the driver’s seat when I got in. It starts maybe fifty years ago, and it was awful, it–” Jisung bit the rest of his sentence down, unable to go on and his chest filled with panic. You let go of his knee, this time gently facing him towards you by the shoulders.

“Jisung,” you softly called out to him, and he looked at you, shaken but grounded again. 

“It mentions a first journal,” he tried again, “but I don’t know where it could be. I tore the house apart looking for it. He mentioned bookkeeping along with it, so I checked his office maybe five times. It’s a wreck by now.”

“What about the store?”

“I wouldn’t know where to begin,” Jisung shrugged helplessly. 

“Take me with you,” you offered. “We’ll come up with something.”

Jisung waited on the porch while you made yourself a little more presentable, unable to escape the prying assumptions of your aunt and join you upstairs. It wasn’t like he could just tell her, ‘you’re absolutely right, I had sex with your niece and I like her a lot but maybe not like you’re hoping.’ He was stuck politely nodding and awkwardly making small talk when you came running down the stairs and out the door, now with a jacket and some proper shoes on. 

Jisung was quiet as he drove and you took a moment to just admire him, how natural he looked in the car and how good it was to see him despite the bruise still healing on his cheek. Before too long, though, you were distracted with how disquieted he looked. 

“Tell me what’s wrong,” you gently suggested. 

He thought hard about this, chewing on his lip as he considered what to say. “It’s the journal. It’s… It’s worrying. It suggests some things I was never prepared for.”

“Like what?” You asked, concern welling up inside your gut and practically weighing you down to the seat. 

“Like…” He really considered it, choosing his words carefully. “Suggesting that maybe you were on to something. But I need to be sure.”

Jisung pulled the car into the alley behind the shop and got out, making a show of actually unlocking the back door. “_Apparently_,” he sighed sarcastically as he flipped through keys, “not keeping your doors locked is a bad habit to get into and an even harder habit to break than I thought. I’m still forgetting.”

“Small town syndrome?” You half-grinned. 

“Worse. I’m learning I’m really bad with locks in general.”

You shared a laugh as he finally got the right key in the lock and let you both in. A shiver forced its way down your back: the store felt even colder than the last time you were in here for some reason, physically or not you couldn’t tell. Jisung reached into his jacket and produced a small, thick, leather-bound journal and leaned against the door frame leading into the store. 

“Like I said,” he sighed, “I don’t even know where to begin.”

“You said the journal mentions bookkeeping along with the first volume. Do you have a safe?”

“Sure, but I don’t have the combo on me. Any other ideas until then?”

“Well,” you shrugged, already seeing where this was going, “can I see the journal?”

“Oh, come on, you don’t need to do–”

It was too late. You grabbed onto the spine of the journal and attempted to slide it out of his hands before he stopped you, his fingers tight around your wrist. “Please,” he gently pleaded, “just trust me. I’m not ready yet.”

You stared hard at Jisung before giving in to yourself and leaning in, your wrist pulling in his grip to wrestle him closer and kiss his parted lips. He stared back at you, almost like he was wondering just where you got an idea like that… Until you slipped the journal from his distracted hands. A small key fell from within the spine of the binding and clattered to the floor between you. 

“Not fair,” Jisung whined, “that’s a dirty trick.”

“And it got results,” you teased sympathetically, “now what would this go to?”

“I have no idea,” he wondered, “I didn’t even realize it was in there.”

“Bookkeeping, right?” You asked, as you handed him back the journal. He nodded, looking thankful as he tucked it back into his jacket. You scanned the room, thinking of where a small key could go when your eyes landed on the roll top desk you had first noticed the other night. Jisung’s eyes followed you as you crossed the floor to the desk. The top opened just fine, revealing the contents of the desk to you in dusty but otherwise fine condition. You began tugging on drawers to see if anything was stuck. Finally, a small set of drawers wouldn’t budge as you pulled and you lined up the tiny key with the petite keyhole. Jisung’s eyes widened as you produced another small journal from the drawer, just like the one you’d handed back to him. He reached for it, giving you a puzzled look as you held it back from him, pressing it to your chest. 

“Jisung,” you said gently, stepping forward to take his hand, “you have to trust me, too. I want to know what’s going on.”

“I know, I do, too,” he struggled, “I just don’t want… I’m not ready.”

“You won’t be,” you reassured him as you leaned in to kiss his brow, “but I’m here.”

Jisung nodded as you led him by the hand through the door and back onto the shop floor. You leaned against the front counter under the lamp there to gently pry open the old journal. 

_3 May, 1922 –_

A crash came banging through the back door. You both jumped and Jisung fumbled for his keys. 

“Oh fuck,” he frantically muttered, “I didn’t lock the door behind us–” He pulled you away from the counter, ready to run when a voice came from the back room. 

“Wait! Wait,” Chan breathed, taking in lungfuls of air as he held himself up against the door frame. 

“What do _you_ want?” You asked sternly, stepping in front of Jisung even as he moved to step in front of you himself. 

“I – the others – they’re coming for you.”

Jisung did step in front of you now. “Why are they doing that?”

“After the other night,” Chan panted, “we all met up, they smelled you on me, I didn’t even think of it when I went to see them, and now they’re looking for you and I couldn’t stop–”

“‘The other night’?” Jisung asked you over his shoulder, cut off as the front door of the shop rang. Jisung winced. 

“Jesus Christ, Jisung,” you groaned sharply, even as Jisung turned you around and stepped back in front of you. You both watched as Chan strode around, ahead of you, head high and confident after he finally caught his breath. 

“_What a good boy, Chan, leading us right here_,” the man up front cloyingly greeted. The pack was here. 

“Get out, Rand, I told you all you don’t need her. There’s tons of them out there.”

“Tons of them out there, but none right here in town. Except _her_,” the man pointed right at you and you felt trapped, exposed, the breath freezing in your chest. “Less work to do if we have her right here at our disposal.”

“Not her, Rand,” Chan ordered. The man poked at Chan’s chest and shoved him out of the way. Two wolves grabbed onto Chan, holding him back as he struggled. He pointed at Jisung now. You could feel him freeze where you held onto the sleeve of his jacket. 

“_You_, boy,” Rand called over. Jisung stayed firmly in place. “Chan forgets he’s not the leader. _I’m_ the one who takes care of our dealings. My condolences for Mr. Shepherd; he was a good man, but we never got to finish negotiating. That’s why we’re here. Give us the girl and tell us the information we’re owed, and we’ll leave. We’ll get out of town.”

“And if I don’t?” Jisung called back down the aisle of the store. He was doing his best to sound big, as if he was confident and had any idea what was going on. Your eyes darted to the splintered bookshelf that had ended Mr. Shepherd. 

“Then we’ll just take her, clean out the store, and leave you to rot,” Rand chuckled. “_One_ of these books has to have what we need. And how long before someone in this town even cares that you’re gone?”

“Enough, Rand,” Chan warned, “get out or–”

“Or what?” He asked him simply, striding forward to get in Jisung’s space. He was tall, with broad shoulders on his slim frame, a scratchy beard unable to hide a thick scar on his neck. He looked down at Jisung. “I honestly am sorry for what happened to Shepherd. We don’t want trouble. Give her to us and tell us–”

Rand spat out a curse as Jisung promptly spat in his face. Jisung looked back over his shoulder to you once again. “Get in the car,” he ordered. You nodded, slipping your hands into his jacket pockets to search for the keys before Jisung shoved the larger man back, only for Rand to lift him, effortlessly, and toss him against the counter. Jisung grunted as he crumpled to the ground, scrambling to grab the journal that had fallen from his jacket. He reached for it, crying out as Rand pressed a boot to his hand and picked it up. You looked behind you towards the door – one of the pack members had circled back through the other aisles to block your way out. 

“I don’t think you’re in any position to be petulant, boy,” Rand scolded as he lifted his foot off Jisung’s hand and grabbed onto the collar of his shirt. Jisung struggled as he was lifted back to his feet. Rand held up the journal with a dark grin. “This wouldn’t happen to be what I think it is, would it?”

The wolf behind you capitalized on the thick silence of the room, suddenly lurching behind you and getting ahold of your arms. You screamed, silenced by the wolf’s hand over your mouth as you struggled. The wolf dragged you closer and he and Rand traded: you were thrust into the larger man’s arms as Jisung was held back now. You shared frantic glances with Chan and Jisung as the taller man looked down on you. One of the wolves holding onto Chan was younger, maybe Jisung’s age, freckled face stricken with fear as he and Chan had a hushed argument. 

“When did Shepherd bring you here, little one?” 

You scrunched up your nose, wincing as he brought his face closer. He smelled like rotten veal and something you couldn’t quite place, almost like kerosene. “He didn’t bring me here,” you gruffly told him, praying you sounded more confident than you felt, “I didn’t know of him before I got here.”

“Lies,” Rand shook his head as he leaned in, breathing you in as he sneered back at Chan. “She’s lovely, Chan. We never should’ve left her back at the library.”

“Let her go, Rand,” Chan feebly warned again. 

“Or what, runt? You’ll leave? More for us.”

Chan tried to step forward as Jisung continued to struggle, but both boys stopped when Rand pulled your head back by the hair, bending you back down over the counter. “Careful, boys. I’m feeling a bit _hungry_. Wouldn’t want to make it worse, would you?”

You whimpered, trying hard to pry Rand’s hand off of you before the other also gripped your throat. 

“Now,” Rand lined out, his thumb rubbing circles over your throat as he looked back at Chan, “I’m doing this to teach you a lesson. We each have our property, our territory. We will all get our use out of her, but I’m the one taking her with us. She’s mine now.”

It was quick, Rand’s fingers tugging the collar of your sweater down and his teeth on your shoulder, sinking in, the pain searing through your brain before his words ever did. The scream that escaped you was unnatural, purely animal as Rand bit into you, his teeth twisting to ensure the flesh was mangled. He stood up, looking pleased as Chan stood behind him, stunned and infuriated. Rand dove in for another bite, only to be interrupted as Jisung finally threw off the wolf holding him and barreled forward into you both. The hand on your throat let up just enough for you to drive a knee between yourself and the larger man, but you could hardly stand at the moment. Jisung had somehow managed to wrestle Rand onto the ground, fueled by rage that caused him to land blow after blow to his face. Blue and red flashing lights glowed through the front window – apparently someone had heard all the commotion. A wolf reached forward, picking you up over his shoulder and trying to carry you off as you kicked and screamed the best you could. Chan took the moment to shake off the two wolves holding him back, lunging forward to get the wolf to drop you when you heard the distinct click of a knife. The two stood off, trying to figure out the best tactic when Chan charged, spooking the wolf into toppling over with you in tow. The blade drove right into your thigh as you dropped to the ground, adding a whole new level of stinging pain to what you were still reeling from. Jisung was still pummeling the older man and you watched, a ragdoll in Chan’s arms as he picked you up and herded you to the door. 

“Jisung!” You yelled back, trying to wriggle out of Chan’s grip. 

“Go!” Jisung yelled, dropping his guard long enough for Rand to get a hold of him again. It was as if the larger man hadn’t just been battered with how effortlessly he grabbed Jisung by the hair and knocked him into the counter ledge. The sickening crack was the last thing you heard as Chan dragged you to Jisung’s car and pushed you inside. He dug into your pockets for the keys and jabbed them into the ignition, the car rumbling to life around you as he stomped on the gas. 

Your vision was fuzzy as you got a look at Chan in the passing streetlights. You wondered when he had gotten attacked, how he came to be covered in so much blood – before you realized it was your own. The leather of the bench seat was cold where you lay, your head up against the door. Chan was still breathing hard, and he took his sleeve to wipe some errant blood that had ended up on his chin. 

“How are you doing?” He asked, eyes fixed on the road. 

“Just fucking dying,” you laughed meanly, and you realized you were wheezing. “I can’t believe you got me into this.”

“Look,” Chan sighed frustratedly, “I did my best to warn you.”

“I don’t need to hear it,” you hoarsely shot back, “just get me somewhere where I can lie down and maybe get some rest.”

“That’s what I’m doing,” Chan grumbled. “I know you’re mad at me, but can you try to be tolerant of my existence long enough for me to make sure you’re okay?”

“Whatever,” you huffed. Chan shifted uncomfortably in his seat, glancing as you grabbed his handkerchief out of your pocket and pressed it to your shoulder.

“I’m just glad you’re safe,” he remarked, still not quite looking at you. He bounced his left knee as he chewed on his lip. 

“Are you alright?”

You wished you didn’t care. 

“I’m fine; it’s stupid. It’s just this full moon coming up.”

You looked up, out the window over your head. The moon was hanging heavy in the sky, almost threatening in how full it was. You looked back at Chan. He agitatedly wiped at your blood on his skin again, even with only a ghost of it remaining. 

“I deserve to know what’s happening,” you said, looking down your nose at him. Chan sighed. 

“I can’t tell you what we stole from Shepherd,” he began, “because we didn’t steal anything from him. That night at the shop, we brought him the books he told us to take from the university.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Then what happened? How does a job like that turn into flat-out murder?”

“Shepherd’s fucking crazy,” Chan shook his head. "Rand has been running jobs like this for years, but getting all these books for Shepherd has been insane. But it always seemed worth it. I totally got it, and I was always able to hold my cover, but that night… We gave him the last books. And he told us what we needed to get next.”

“What was it, Chan…” You asked, unsure if you wanted to hear the answer. The whole thing sounded ludicrous. 

“Vampires. He wanted us to bring him vampires. One each for anyone who wanted a cut. Young, healthy, live vampires. And Shepherd mentioned plenty living back at the university and… I guess Rand noticed me remembering you.”

Your hands clenched. You couldn’t believe what Chan was trying to pull on you. Whether you were feeling sick from losing so much blood or hearing this information, you couldn’t tell. The whole thing was so ridiculous. But, you figured, there was no sense in not humoring him. “What happened, Chan?”

“I… I tried to stop it,” he explained, his voice shaky now, “I tried to tell Rand this is wrong and I tried to tell Shepherd we weren’t interested. The old man pulled a fucking _gun_ on me. Who knows what was loaded in there. He said we were in too deep to back out now, and–”

“You killed him.”

“… I killed him.”

You paused, taking in the sight of Chan driving Jisung’s car before you realized you were parked now. Chan had pulled back around to the parking lot of an old motel on the side of the road, long forgotten for being too far from the town proper for tourists. As it existed now, the building had persisted long after being consumed by opportunistic graffiti artists and vandals. You tried to shake off your dizziness. 

“Where are we?” You asked quietly. 

“Somewhere safe,” he replied, “where me and one of the others have been hiding out off and on. He’s new, newer than I am. He’s taken this life so much harder than even I did… So I shouldn’t be surprised he ratted out where I was to Rand the other night.”

“He sold you out?”

“Felix is scared. He was turned and his family threw him out. He just wants to do what he can to survive. I can’t fault him for that.”

“Chan,” you murmured, “I’m so tired.”

“I know, princess,” he sighed, “let’s get you inside.” You glared at him for the pet name, but nonetheless you didn’t fight him as he opened the door and pulled you out and into his arms. He carried you through the decrepit lobby, down the rear staircase and winding through the cold concrete hall until he reached the boiler room, barely lit by a few camping lanterns. Here, a couple makeshift beds were fashioned from mattresses dragged from upstairs, shoved up against the pipes that lined the room. He gently set your limp body down on the edge of the mattress, his eyes wandering over your bloodied form. He tugged off your coat and dropped it to the floor, the material thunking on the cold concrete from the journal concealed in the pocket. Next, he peeled off your soaked sweater, your thin tank top underneath only marginally dryer from the wound on your shoulder. His straying eyes lingered at the bite, his fingers twitching where they reached for the button of your jeans. 

“What the hell are you doing?” You asked. 

“You were _stabbed_, idiot,” he sighed as he shook himself out of it, “I need to look at it.”

“It’s fine, you dumb fucking dog–” you ranted, cut off into a hail of curses as Chan raised an eyebrow and stuck his thumb against the wound. You grumbled as you slapped his other hand away from your jeans and unbuttoned them yourself. He untied your boots and set them on the floor before he pulled this layer off of you as well, the denim sticking to the congealing blood and making you grimace. He paused at your exposed thigh, the wound shining. You saw the rise and fall of his shoulders shake as he took in the sight, the smell of you under him. Your foot jabbed into his chest. 

“Don’t fucking think about it,” you warned. 

“I’m sorry,” he lamented, “I really am.”

“Tell me what you were trying to get from Shepherd,” you prodded, trying to get back on track, “tell me what the vampires are for.” You had to know. Your feelings rested on the precipice of hatred and you had to know. Your head was reeling still. Chan stared hard at you, almost silently preparing you or himself, or perhaps both. 

“… A cure for this. Something to turn us human,” he murmured. You stared, aghast, a fire igniting into blazes in your gut. You watched as Chan unwittingly tried to distract you. “I figured it out, by the way – what else you smell like. What I couldn’t place. It’s a fox. You smell like a fox that hung around my grandmother’s garden when I was growing up.”

Your hard gaze softened at his charming sincerity, but that blaze in your belly only grew. Still, your voice was soft, almost sweet. “Chan,” you quietly pleaded, “I’m so tired.”

Chan was snapped out of his aimless, distressed staring as he regarded you. He quickly nodded and got his arms around you to lift you into a better position in his bed. His warm scent of veal and mahogany lit you up, danced around your senses like an old friend, but it only served to pull you further down. You were upset. You were furious. You were weak and _famished_. 

“What the fuc–!” Chan sharply cursed, frozen as you sank your teeth into his neck. He tried to pull back away from you, only for you to yank him down, between your legs and pushing you back down against the mattress. He almost cried out again, only to be interrupted by you withdrawing your teeth and piercing him once more. You realized you were moaning. The blood washing down your tongue and throat instantly gave you a head rush. 

“I was so hungry,” you groaned against his throat, “after everything you put me through tonight, I’m starving.”

He shoved off of you, landing on his ass on the concrete and scrambling back as you felt confident enough to stand again. He slapped a hand down to his leaking neck. “I can help you,” he quickly offered, “we can do that, but you just need to calm down first–”

“No, Chan,” you shook your head, taking your time closing in on him as he continued to back up, “I can’t. I can’t believe you’d try to pull this on me and try to get me to believe this crock of shit.”

“What part sounds like shit?!”

“The part where you just happen to be a good guy for killing an old man. A cure? For lycanthropy? You might have had a chance before that.”

“It’s true,” he sputtered defensively, but you could see his eyes in the dim lanterns illuminating the room: fully blown out, eager to fulfill either of your bloodlusts.

“How could a vampire cure you?” You asked flatly, not caring for any answer but just enjoying watching him squirm. 

“He didn’t tell us!” 

“Because you killed him? You’re a _monster_, Chan,” you seethed as you stood over him. 

“No, I’m not,” he feebly shook his head. You simply nodded. 

“Yes, you are. You’re a fucking monster, and nothing can change that. I didn’t choose to be like this, just like I didn’t choose to get dragged into this. My life has been taken from me _twice_ now, and you’re responsible for this one.”

“Please, I’m sorry,” Chan begged, “tell me what to do.”

“I can’t tell you what to do,” you said, curious as to where this grin on your face came from. You were positively incensed, but you were burning. You were _excited_. “But I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. I’m going to fucking tear you apart.”

Chan finally tried to scramble to his feet, only to be halted and trip on the chilled concrete as you stepped onto one of his loose shoelaces. The strength coursing through you confounded you as you drew close, grabbing him by the collar of his jacket and shoving him back onto the mattress. 

“What are you going to do?” He asked timidly, and that boy from the bar all those nights ago was gone. Staring up at you was a trapped animal, eyes wide and shaking. The only difference was the electric hunger lying behind this thin veil of fear. He gulped as you climbed onto the bed and sank onto his lap, his Adam’s apple bobbing and catching in his throat. 

“Oh, Chan,” you sighed as you melted against him, “_I’m going to eat you alive_.”

Chan froze, one hand clutching the sheets and the other gripping your waist as your teeth pierced his neck again. He cried out, in ecstasy and pain, his legs stiffening under you as his whole body clenched.

“Look where your animal instincts got me, you stupid dog,” you laughed meanly. He watched, engrossed as he was confronted again by your thin tank top, soaked with the blood leaking from Rand’s bite. Just with what you’d drank from Chan so far, you had already begun to heal. Now you would just be left with a nasty scar from the older wolf. You grabbed Chan’s hand and made him feel it, his fingers touching the healing bumps and scars. He winced. “See, you dumb mutt? You let another wolf try to claim me.”

“I would’ve never–”

“Too late, Channie,” you condescended as you leaned back down and dragged your teeth over his skin, “he said I was going to be _his_. What would that mean in your world? Would he eat me? Fuck me? _Breed_ me?”

You let out another hysterical laugh as Chan growled, nearly roaring before you bit into him again. His rage instantly snuffed out into pleasure as he mindlessly rutted his hips up against you. 

“I would’ve never let that happen,” Chan panted between guttural moans, “he’d have to kill me before I let that happen.”

“But it almost _did_ happen, you stupid _runt_.”

Chan did let out a roar now, catching you off guard as he rolled on top of you. “Never call me that again, you awful leech,” he gritted before his own teeth trailed just below your existing mark, to just under your collarbone. He hesitated. You did as well, feeling this bizarrely tender moment of the animal in Chan wanting so desperately to share how he felt about you. Instead of his teeth, though, it was just his lips, gently pressing to your skin. “He can’t take you from me,” he breathed against you, “no one can. You’re _mine_.”

Despite the reignited fury in your chest, it was your turn to moan as Chan’s hips still furiously ground against your dampening panties. You shoved him onto his back once again, clambering back onto his hips and whipping his belt out from his jeans before looping the leather around his scrambling wrists, fighting to push you back off. 

“What makes you say that?” You spat as you tied his wrists to one of the pipes behind his makeshift bed, “What makes you think you just get to claim me like that?”

You cut off one of Chan’s likely cheeky remarks as you unbuttoned his flannel shirt under his jacket, getting a good look at his sculpted chest before your own teeth grazed over his collarbones. “I knew it from that night at the bar, and you were such a fucking bitch,” he laughed under his breath, “you tried to just feed on me before–” His breath caught in his throat as an actual whimper as your teeth dragged along his collarbones. “And when I said goodbye to you in the library, I knew you were mine. No one else’s, not Rand’s, not that stupid worm you’re hanging out with–”

“But didn’t you see, Chan?” You cruelly teased him, your grinding only working his jeans lower on his hips now that his belt was gone. He tugged at his impromptu restraints. “Didn’t you see him hold me down and take a bite out of me in front of everyone?”

“I did,” he whined, eyes screwed shut through his moans, “and I wanted to kill him. I wanted to kill him right then and there.”

“Are you sure you’re not a monster?” You smirked. “That worm’s name is Jisung by the way, and I like him.”

Chan pulled uselessly at his wrists, blood pooling under his neck and into his hair on the sheets. He smelled perfect, almost unreal, and it felt like you were trapped under ice, like you were at the mercy of whatever was compelling you at the moment. You easily popped the button of Chan’s jeans and yanked his zipper down, a whimpered cry escaping him as you got his warm length in your hand. 

“I don’t care if you like him,” Chan gritted out, an errant drip of sweat falling from his brow, “you know you’re mine.”

“Are you sure? Because he doesn’t call me a stupid leech when he fucks me.”

Chan thrashed underneath you, only resulting in thrusting up into your tight grip. “Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“No, darling,” you condescended, “who knew I’d enjoy someone being gentle with me?”

“Stop pushing me there!” Chan begged, crying out again as you leaned in to bite him once more. He was right; you were endlessly provoking him, but it was _terrific_. You reached between your legs, moving your panties aside just enough for Chan’s cock to nudge up against you. He watched, hopelessly enraptured as you moaned at the feeling. 

“Where am I pushing you?” You asked. “Jealousy? Are you jealous thinking of Jisung fucking me?”

“Yes,” Chan pathetically whined as he uselessly tried to thrust up into you. 

“Are you jealous thinking of Rand claiming me?”

“Yes,” Chan moaned desperately, whimpering as you barely sank lower on his leaking cock. 

“Why are you jealous?” You cruelly provoked. 

“Because you’re mine,” he groaned. “You’re mine, I can feel it when I look at you. I feel it in my fucking skin.”

“Good boy,” you grinned darkly as you rolled your hips down onto his, taking his length deep inside you and immediately riding him into the sheets. Chan cried out, looking pale from the blood that had drained from the multiple marks you’d made on his neck. 

_More_, begged a little voice in you, lying somewhere behind your conscience and reasoning. 

You obliged, your fingers curling into his hair and pulling his head to the side as you bit into him again. 

“What if I told you I feel _safe_ with Jisung? I don’t have to worry about him trying to eat me or getting mixed up in bullshit like this.”

“You feel safe with Jisung because he’s _weak_,” Chan insisted, his breath coming out in tortured gasps, “he can’t protect you like I can. Come on, _please_ let me fuck you. I missed you.”

“Be patient and be grateful, you dumb dog. And Jisung doesn’t have to protect me,” you shook your head, “because this is the most trouble he’s ever been in. And you’re a part of that trouble.”

“I just need to get you away from Rand,” he groaned as he rolled his hips up against yours. 

“That isn’t the problem, Chan,” you admonished as you bucked your hips back down on his. It was difficult, focusing past the little voice in your mind and the blissful ecstasy coursing through you as you fucked Chan, his blood and his cock in you making you feel effervescent. Your orgasm lay somewhere with that small voice, waiting. “You think I’m afraid of some big, bad, wolf?” You laughed cruelly at Chan fighting wildly against his restraints underneath you. 

_More_, the small voice within you whispered, _he can take it_. 

Your hips slowed on his and he looked up at you, eyes wide and uncertain. 

“You really do feel that way,” you marveled quietly as you melted down against his bare chest. “You really want me even after all this.” You nuzzled the ravaged skin of his neck before slowly, gently kissing his lips. Chan was silent, almost reverent as your kiss lingered. 

“I want you,” he nodded earnestly, almost drunk, tipping his chin up to press his lips to yours again. “You’re mine.”

“Does that make you mine then?” You asked him as you began working your tight heat up and down his dripping length. Despite the little voice goading you to move on, you were actually curious for his answer. 

He nodded sincerely. “Yes, I’m all yours.”

“Since when?” You asked, watching his little shivers at each moan that escaped you. 

“Since I knew you were mine,” he groaned, now only holding onto his restraints instead of pulling. His words made your head spin, but you couldn’t tell if it was the sentimentality or the absurdity or the sincerity of it that was doing it for you. It could’ve been all three. All you knew was that you didn’t want it. Not now. Not when you needed to focus on getting out of town now. The little voice in your mind coughed up again. 

_Do it_, it urged, _teach him a lesson_. 

You bounced harder on Chan’s cock, savoring the way he fit up inside you and lusting over each moan for you he gave. Having him unravel for you fueled you in no way you predicted, this animal completely at your mercy and yours for the taking. He whimpered and whined and groaned for you, hissing under his breath as you dragged your nails down his defined chest and abdomen. He looked so pretty for being so drained, hardly enough blood in him to flush his cheeks and so breathless every hushed curse was hoarse. Meanwhile, you felt more alive than you had in years. Your orgasm was coming in hot and you relished the sensation. Chan watched you expectantly as you kissed him again, your lips trailing down to his neck and ultimately his clavicles. His eyes closed, now pliantly letting you drag your teeth over his skin. This was the longest they’d ever been extended. 

“_The only problem with all this_,” you whispered, fighting through your pre-orgasm haze, “_is I don’t belong to anyone_.” 

Chan’s eyes shot open as you sank your teeth into his chest, crunching and twisting as Rand had done to you. It had the desired effect, shocking Chan into the perfect orgasm to push your own. He screamed as you did, his knuckles white where he gripped the belt tying him to the pipes lining the room. His orgasm flowed hot into you and you were almost lost in the fog still clouding your mind before you realized how much blood was spilling from the wound. You instantly sobered, suddenly aware of what you’d done. Your fingers reached for him but stopped, wavering moments away. A cough hacked from Chan’s chest, small flecks of blood dotting his lips from when he must’ve bitten into his cheek. 

“Oh god, Chan–” you breathed, horrified at the sight of him. 

_Fine_, the little voice fought back, _he’s a wolf. He’ll be fine. Tomorrow should be a full moon and he’ll be good as new_. 

“What the fuck did you do to me?” He asked, a drunk roused from his sleep. 

He looked as good as dead. Chan gasped for breath as you slid off his lap, hair matted to his forehead with sweat and any color he had left gone. You stared, wondering just where the hell you got an idea like that from. 

“Are you okay?” You asked quietly, unsure of what to do. 

“Me? I’m fine, just fucking dying.” Chan smirked tiredly at you and you thrust your hands in his pockets for the keys and stumbled off the bed, still unbelieving of what you just did. Rand hadn’t drained you of most of your blood before ripping into you. Now Chan’s breath was shallow in his chest as your hands desperately searched for your clothes. “Starting to think I’m not the only monster here,” Chan mused. 

“What’re you talking about?”

“I didn’t tell you about the fox you smell like, because it wasn’t like any of the ones I caught or hunted with my granddad growing up.”

You warily stood after loosely pulling on your boots, backing up to the door of the boiler room. 

“You smell like a special fox,” he continued, still struggling to catch his breath, “that would come poking around the garden looking for food. Until one day, it killed my grandmother’s favorite hen. And she was livid. She charges out of the kitchen with a shotgun, and she blasts the stupid thing and she buries it.” Chan laughed, almost as if you were just sharing stories over beers and not watching him bleeding all over the bed. 

“My granddad threw a fucking fit,” Chan chuckled grimly, “because burying it will only bring more trouble. And it does. But she insists it’s good for the soil, and it’ll serve as some lesson to the others. For weeks my grandmother is blasting away vermin and knocking pots and pans together to get foxes and wolves and bears away from her garden, until one night my granddad drags me out of bed and makes me hold a lantern as he unburies this fox and throws it out to the treeline.”

You could swear you could see your breath, you or the room were so frozen. 

“That’s what you smell like, princess,” Chan smirked, “this dead thing that belonged in the ground, but not where it was buried. Just bringing more trouble. Cardamom, lilies, and trouble. And look at me… Face it, you’re a monster. _That’s_ why you’re mine.”

Enough. You shook out your jacket and threw it on, running down the hall as Chan laughed behind you. You ran up the stairs and through the lobby, and you ran as you burst through the front door, gasping as you were faced with the freckled boy from the pack. He stared back at you. 

“I’m sorry,” you breathed, and ran to the car, jumping in and revving the engine. The car barreled back towards town, but you were so dizzy you weren’t even convinced you were driving. Chan wasn’t going to make it, and you ran. There was no way he’d survive the night, and you had abandoned him. Why did you care? You didn’t care. You still hated him. Even if you were his. Even if that was bullshit. But he didn’t deserve to die like this. 

The car pulled into the alley behind the shop and you tried to open the door before you found it locked. You flipped through the keys and wrenched open the door, stumbling in. 

“Jisung!” You yelled, running into the store. Jisung popped up from the couch, gladly accepting you as you ran into his arms. 

“Oh my god,” he breathed as he held you tight, “I’m so glad you’re okay, you’re – what happened to you?”

You stepped back, following his gaze down. You were covered in more blood than when you left. 

“Did Chan do this to you?” He immediately started in as he shook his head in disbelief. His bandaged fingers started examining you, wavering at the healed bite you’d suffered earlier that night. “I can’t fucking believe it. What did he do to you? I had my doubts when he was taking you, I wanted to stop it–”

“Jisung.”

“What?” He looked up, bewildered at the tears welling in your eyes. 

“He didn’t do anything… I did.” You fell back into Jisung’s arms and he put his confusion aside to comfort you the best he could. He guided you down to the couch and sat with you beside him. The tears stinging your cheeks felt so similar to the tears you shed the night you were first turned. He held you close, and you got a good look at the stitches on his brow, a nice addition to the black eye that still never finished healing. 

“Oh, Jisung,” you sighed as you looked at it.

“It’s fine,” he shook his head, “the wolves scattered after the cops showed. The cops haven’t believed me until now, so when the medics came I told them it was just an attempted smash-and-grab.”

“At least we have the journals,” you attempted to lighten up. Tomorrow was a full moon. Chan would be fine. 

“Not quite,” Jisung admitted. 

“What?”

“I don’t remember anything that happened between telling you to run, and the cops questioning me. I searched the store when I got a chance. The first journal is gone. But at least we still have the one from the desk.”

You dug into your jacket pockets, freezing when you all you felt were Jisung’s keys. 

“Jesus,” you breathed, “it’s fucking gone.”

“Holy _shit_!” Jisung exclaimed, making you jump. “Where the fuck do we go from here? How do we protect you if the last people we want to are there ones who have the answers?!”

“Jisung!” You shouted back, getting his attention back as you grabbed his hands. “I have to get out of town. If I can go in the direction of an answer, that’s better than nothing. I need you to tell me anything from the journal.”

Jisung stared hard at you, nursing at his bottom lip before he ultimately nodded. “I… The journal mentions a girl. She worked for Shepherd for a few summers until she graduated from the university… She worked in the research department as well.”

The confusion that sprouted from information like that only sat in your gut, with no momentum. “Just a girl?”

“A vampire. But by the end of the diary she’s fucking dead.”

“Jisung, tell me her name–”

“Why?”

“Because if her name is Lia, she’s still alive.” You got up, dusting yourself off as Jisung stared wondrously up at you. “I’m a mess, so if I can crash at your place before I get out of town–”

“Why aren’t I coming with you?”

“Why do you want to?”

Jisung sighed, looking around at the bookshop, destroyed numerous times by now. “There’s nothing for me here. Not right now. There’s some closure if I go with you. Let me come with you.”

“Are you sure, Jisung?”

“I am,” he nodded, taking the keys from your hand with a small smile, “I’m all yours.”

**[To be continued.]**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted to skzctnightnight.tumblr.com! 💕


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seeking sanctuary at an old friend's house, the Reader has to reconcile some unspoken feelings with Jisung.

“Jisung,” you sighed, “I'm so tired.”

“Me, too,” Jisung agreed with an exhausted smile, “but you're the one that course-corrected us away from the university. Are you sure this is where she lives?”

“Positive,” you nodded, “I travelled with her on my way home for winter break the year I turned.”

There really was no need for you to be tired. You were fed, you were healed, and you didn’t need the sleep you were forced to go through every day. But so much had happened, so much was sitting on your shoulders that you were exhausted, almost dragging your whole body with every step you took. 

“How do you feel about seeing her?” Jisung asked, his noticing eyes making you realize you were bouncing your knee. 

“Nervous,” you contemplated as you stopped. “I wish I could call. The number was dead when I tried.”

“You’ll be fine. I bet she’ll be thrilled to see you.”

“How about you?” You prodded. “How do  _ you _ feel?”

“About what?”

“About meeting her, about all of this, really.”

“Fine,” Jisung answered shortly, “nervous, but fine.”

It didn’t matter that you were fine to drive, either. Jisung insisted that you still needed rest, at least emotionally, but he was fading fast nonetheless. It was hard to believe, considering you looked amazing. A healthy glow adorned your cheek. Your hair shined. You looked good as new after what you’d taken from Chan. The same couldn’t be said for Jisung, who couldn’t stop fiddling with the stitches in his brow even though it agitated the black eye that was still in the process of fading. That wasn’t even counting the new bruises he’d found, one still burning a sickening shade of orange on his jaw or the spot on his arm where he’d been grabbed back at the store. He’d been up all day as you slept in his bed at Shepherd's, after you'd taken a much needed shower after everything that happened the previous night.

You’d awoken to Jisung laying right next to you, dead asleep with his bag packed and ready to go. He’d driven you back to your aunt’s, where you patiently lied that you were taking a trip with Jisung before you headed back to school, but you weren't quite sure what your relationship with him was, so your family absolutely didn’t need to know yet. And, yes, you had to leave  _ now _ if you wanted to make progress on the road and have a whole day ahead. She’d understood to the best of her ability. Ever the romantic, she was a little hurt to see you go, but very excited to see you around someone you enjoyed. You had grabbed your things and watched as she waved you goodbye from her porch. 

So, now, miles down the highway and the sparse lights of town far behind you, the cacophony of white noise in your head from all these recent developments were dragging you to a standstill, and Jisung had run himself ragged. You sat up from where you were relaxed on the bench seat and slid over to place a reassuring hand on his at the wheel, your fingers sliding over the bandages still adorning his knuckles. The leather of the seat still had a faint ghost of the blood you’d smeared all over it the previous night; Jisung had apparently tried everything in his power to clean it off. 

“Jisung,” you softly encouraged, “you’re making great time. Now let’s sleep somewhere before you run us off the road.”

You would've settled for pulling off into a rest area, but Jisung pulled into the nearest motel that had a well-lit parking lot and all the lights on their sign working. He signed the register half awake, and now you were sidling up to your double room. You set your things down, collapsing onto a bed and shucking off your boots and coat, and Jisung sat across from you on the other mattress, distractedly watching as you stretched. You had noticed the air between you felt odd, ever since that night you spent together on the couch in the bookshop, but you never had taken the time to confront it. You had been surprised to find him dozing next to you back in his soft bed in his comically giant room at Shepherd's, and Jisung had even apologized as if he hadn't already seen you naked, you know, when you had sex just a couple nights before. 

Had a night like that occured in any life other than this one, you could’ve ruminated on whether the feeling staked between you was longing, or coping, or something else entirely. In any other life, you'd slept together once without truly discussing your feelings and were now faced with the uncertain emotional aftermath. But this wasn’t any other life, and in the time since you had slept together in  _ this _ timeline, you'd fought, not taken his side, noncommittally kissed, and ultimately fucked the horrid wolf that got you into this. 

_ And probably killed him.  _

Jisung seemed to catch your tiredly wandering eyes now and he got up to gently push you into bed, tucking you in under the covers. He sat by you, just feeling you near him until his eyes were on yours again. His gaze was soft, but it was short-lived, and your heart cloyingly raced as he leaned close. But Jisung simply kissed your forehead before kicking off his shoes, slinging his jacket onto the other side of the other bed and climbing in. He looked over to you again, some bizarrely thick tension making you wonder if it would be awkward to ask him to join you — for comfort, for affection, for anything. 

“ _ I hope this is alright _ ,” Jisung said softly from his side of the dark room once he switched off the lamp between you. “ _ You’ve been through so much the past couple nights. You could use some rest _ .” He wished you goodnight and was instantly asleep, and you rolled over in bed to regard the light of the full moon dimming and making way for dawn. 

_ Chan could be dead by now. He couldn't have made it all day. _

Why did you care?

Your thoughts were so plagued with a never-ending chorus of  _ All Yours _ with intermittent refrains of  _ All Mine _ weaved through, that you didn't even notice as the night finally came to an end and you fell asleep. 

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑

When even all the working lights of the motel’s sign were long behind you, you finally directed Jisung to a driveway hidden off a side road of a side road from the highway. It was a miracle you remembered this place, but how could you not? You could clearly remember Lia hugging you goodbye for winter break at the gate, sending you on your way in a car she’d hired to take you to the train station. Her cheeks had been bitten red in the crisp night, and she told you that everything would be alright when you saw each other again and she could continue teaching you how to live this life. But you never would see Lia again after that. She made some excuse to stay home after winter break, that it was best for her to stay away, but her occasional notes in the mail and small gifts reminded you she was still around. 

The driveway wound in curves that betrayed the straight beams of the car’s headlights, any meager assistance from dim lanterns lining the path rendered practically useless until, suddenly, the gravel road opened up to a fully paved circle drive. The house heading it was impressive, decently modern and handsome with sleek lines accentuating its humble grandeur. 

Jisung practically hid behind you, nervous to meet the woman from the journal you’d been assuring him wasn’t a ghost, and his hand twitched where it brushed against your arm when the door cracked open. Lia, perpetually waifish with her pin-straight, black hair down past her shoulders, regarded you with wide eyes and a beaming smile. 

“My sweetheart! I can’t believe it,” she breathed, already too excited as she swung the door open, “I’m so surprised to see you!”

Lia’s arms paused right before they flung around your neck to hug you, but you still felt her freeze. You backed away from her embrace as she warily looked Jisung up and down, who had now cowered away a few steps. 

“Who’s this?” Lia asked you, doing her best to be courteous. Her smile was made of ice. You knew you should’ve left Jisung in the car, that Lia was already tense around strange men, but he’d insisted that this was the right thing to do. 

“This is Jisung,” you carefully introduced, reaching over to snatch his hand and pull him closer, “he’s—“

“We share a mutual mentor,” Jisung coughed up and stood tall, “Adam Shepherd. I’m—“

“Get the fuck out.” Lia spat the words, eyes wild as she firmly stepped back through the door. Another girl ghosted in over her shoulder, her cropped hairstyle and deadpan glare making the whole encounter feel more dire. 

“Lia,” the girl murmured, “what’s wrong? Who is this?”

_ “I said get the fuck out!” _ Lia cried as she tried to shut the door. You leapt forward to throw your arm up against it, when you heard a disconcerting clatter behind the large frame. Lia stepped back into view with a shotgun held down by her side. Jisung stepped forward again now, a protective arm trying to pull you back. “Sweetheart, I love you,” Lia’s voice wavered as she stared you down, “I love you, but you have to leave. I won’t accept any form of that monster — that  _ maniac _ — apprentice or otherwise.”

“Lia,” the girl over her shoulder persisted, “we can’t be doing this.”

“After what that bastard did to me,” Lia seethed, “I hope he rots. If he were dead I would—“

“He is.”

Lia’s shaking eyes bore into Jisung as he piped up, but her stunned silence encouraged him to try again. Jisung warily stepped in front of you to gently take the gun from Lia’s hand. The girl over her shoulder quickly grabbed it from him to stow it back away. You watched, impressed and touched as Jisung slowly took her hand in his. “Lia,” he said warily, cautiously forming the name on his lips that he’d only read in the journal and heard from you before now, “I hate what Shepherd did to you. I promise you he’s dead. I saw it happen.”

Lia nervously bit at her lip, as if the news wouldn’t last. The air on the doorstep stagnated before, finally, she self-consciously swiped at the tears welling in the corners of her eyes and relinquished a small smile. “I’m glad you brought me good news,” she laughed, the exhaustion in her voice betraying the tension she was still holding. 

“Lia,” you began as you softly took her hand from Jisung, “I need your help. I’m sure you can guess why we’re here if we brought you this bit of good news.”

She nodded soberly despite the smile still pulling at the corners of her lips. “Anything for you, sweetheart. I’m just so happy to see you.”

Lia and the girl behind her stepped aside to let you and Jisung into the foyer, the refreshingly open layout showcasing a grand staircase and easily revealing ways towards other parts of the house. 

“I feel like I’ve been so uncharacteristically rude,” Lia apologized as she pulled the girl close, “I didn’t even make proper introductions. This is Ryu—“

“Joanne,” the girl corrected with a terse smile. She eyed Lia as if this was already known. “The girls and I decided we will be going by our chosen names.”

“Any particular reason?” Lia asked tiredly. You and Jisung may as well have vanished for how caught up in each other they became.

“Well, after last month—“

“Fine,” Lia decided, holding up a hand to silence her, “if it makes you all happy.”

“ _ It does _ .” A voice from up the staircase startled you both as you caught three other girls peeking out over the banister in the dim entryway. Lia sighed, any grandeur from her introductions having been stripped away by now. She flippantly gestured to the girls. 

“This is Joanne. I picked her up shortly after you returned to school and I never could get rid of her. The pretty one with the ponytail is Ye— Lucy. She came along a little after Joanne. The pretty one with the button nose is Judy, and the skinny pretty one is her sister, Hu—“

“Yuna,” the younger girl chirped. Lia’s sigh multiplied, causing Yuna to shrink considerably considering her tall and lithe figure. “I didn’t want to change mine. And we know who you are,” Yuna beamed at you, “your picture is on Lia’s desk in the study.”

“Er,” you awkwardly grinned at all the girls, “well it’s certainly nice to meet all of you. This is Jisung.” You tugged him close, and this was the most shy you’d ever seen him. He sheepishly waved and you couldn’t help but think this was the most girls he’d ever been in a room with at once in quite some time.

“I’m…” Jisung tripped over his words and boots as he turned back towards the door, “... going to grab our things. From the car. I’ll be right back.”

Lia crooked a finger at Yuna as Jisung retreated back outside. “You, you little snoop, can help me get some firewood from out back while the girls get our guests set up.” Yuna sighed as she descended the stairs, dragging her feet all the way as she followed Lia out of the entryway. 

“Come on,” Joanne nodded in your direction as she headed up the stairs herself, “let’s get you a room.”

Joanne led you up the stairs and down the wing to your right. She thumbed back over her shoulder. “There’s another guest room that way, along with the study, Lia’s room, and Yuna’s room. Down this way is my room, Judy’s room, Lucy’s room, and your room.” 

Judy and Lucy tittered as they opened the door to your room, a handsome guest suite that was clearly serving double duty as a library of sorts. You’d finally had enough and smiled friendly enough at the girls. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh!” Lucy laughed. “We’re not that serious about the names. It just bothers Lia.”

“Sort of mean,” you defended, until you couldn’t hold back your smile anymore. “It  _ is _ fun to get her all riled up, though. Why did she believe it?”

The girls all softened once they saw you could play along. “Yeji—  _ Lucy _ — had a boyfriend come looking for her last month and it wasn’t too fun. The same shotgun scenario but much more dramatic.” 

Lucy nodded. “Ryujin — I mean  _ Joanne _ — suggested choosing new names to use in town and such, and Lia thought it was sweet, so we’ve been bugging her with it ever since. She’s sort of like an older sister that way.”

The girls casually helped themselves to your bed as you shrugged off your coat and shoes. Meanwhile, Judy curiously peered out the window into the night, presumably at Jisung fiddling with your bags as he headed back inside. “How long have you been with your boyfriend?” She asked dreamily. The other two girls rolled their eyes, both smirking as your expression gave you away. 

“My—? Oh, Jisung isn’t my boyfriend. We’re just friends.”

Jisung popped up shortly after, bags in hand as the girls all turned to look at him. Lucy smiled and Judy blushed, but Joanne managed to laugh out loud. 

“What?” Jisung asked obliviously. “Is everything alright?”

“Perfectly fine,” Lucy grinned, “we’ll go make the other room more presentable, then.”

The girls all giggled and teased each other as they filed past Jisung down the hall and finally allowed him enough room to come in. He set your bag down on the bed, pointedly averting his eyes as you quickly found a comfy shirt to sleep in and tugged your top off over your head. 

“How’re you feeling?” You gently asked. 

“I’m fine,” Jisung shrugged. “Maybe a little awkward. New place and new people. How are  _ you _ feeling?” He asked quietly, now suddenly shy as you shucked off your jeans to pull on a pair of lounge shorts. You studied the faint scar on your leg left from the stab wound that seemed so serious just a couple of nights ago. 

“Honestly? I’m feeling a bit left in the dark.”

Now that you were dressed, Jisung picked his head up, puzzled. “About what?”

“Seems like I’m the only one who doesn’t know what Shepherd did.”

Jisung exhaled deep. “I’m not ready. Obviously, Lia isn’t either. And now I feel like it’s her place to tell you.”

“That’s such bullshit!” You impatiently huffed. Jisung quickly waved for you to quiet down, gesturing toward the open door. The girls could be heard laughing down the hallway. “ _ That’s bullshit _ ,” you attempted again, quieter now, “I feel so useless when I don’t even know what I’m running from.”

“I promise,” Jisung tried to bargain with you, stepping forward to hold your folded arms, “we will get Lia to open up while we’re here. You need to hear it from her. Trust me, okay? I’m all yours.”

“Oh, sure. Then what’re you so afraid of?” You scoffed as you pulled away. Jisung grunted in annoyance. 

“That’s horseshit, don’t do that,” he snapped. “Why won’t you tell me what happened with the wolf the other night? Why won’t you tell me what happened with him before you came to the store a few nights ago? What’re  _ you _ afraid of?”

“Excuse me,” you fired back, “but I think I can expect a little more from someone who says they’re all mine.”

Jisung sighed hard as he attempted to come up with the words in his cloud of frustration, when a light trio of giggles sounded at the door. You both froze. 

“Hey, Jisung,” Lucy gave a small, cheeky wave as she poked her head in, “how are you feeling? Lia never lets us bring donors home, and we’re a little hungry. Want to help us out?”

Jisung looked from the three girls, to you, back and forth a few times. 

“Do you mind?” Joanne asked you. Jisung watched as you shrugged. His expression was hard to read. 

“Why would I mind? Like I said, it’s not like we’re together or anything. He’s all yours.”

It appeared like Jisung deflated before he made one step towards the girls. Right on cue, they all swooped down on him, herding him out and back down the hall and towards his room, chattering and laughing all the way. 

It didn’t feel like you were upset with Jisung’s decision as you switched off all the lights except for the lamp on the bedside, but you were  _ furious _ with yourself for feeling betrayed, for feeling almost jealous as he’d looked back over his shoulder at you on his way out the door. All you could reasonably do in this moment was simmer, laying in bed and suddenly feeling as exhausted as Jisung had been insisting you were. You looked out at the slowly waning moon fading. The gross burn of agitated loneliness was making your skin prickle, but now you were too stubborn to get up and look for some company. Besides, the person you wanted company from most was probably too busy currently contributing to the faint chorus of squeals and giggles quietly trailing in from down the hall. The only option that was to will yourself to sleep well before the sun was actually set to rise. 

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑

The burning magenta and violet of sundown greeted you from your slumber, which inadvertently graced you with actually waking up bleary-eyed and not just snapping back into consciousness. Much to your dismay, your body still didn’t feel quite rested. You took your time slipping into the shower in the small en suite bathroom, standing under the stream in an attempt to develop anything else aside from pruned fingers. Perhaps, you figured, it was time to break your routine of pulling on some jeans and a t-shirt. Something needed to change in some feeble attempt to shake off this weird feeling hanging over you, even if it was small. You’d brought exactly one skirt with you to your aunt’s house, and it actually felt a little rejuvenating to slip it on over a pair of knee socks. You paired it with a simple sweater and looked yourself over, feeling more content actually doing something. 

Your footsteps echoed down the stairs as you padded down to the kitchen, following your nose towards fresh coffee. Lia sat perched on a stool at the breakfast nook. Her feet were curled up under her as she sipped at her coffee and absently flipped through an old photo album. She picked up her head as she noticed you and brusquely shut the album with its yellowed pages and leatherbound cover. Yuna looked over at you and smiled from where she stood at the stove as she slid a couple of eggs off the skillet and onto a plate. 

“So how did Lia find you?” Yuna asked curiously. Lia choked on her coffee. 

“You don’t have to answer that,” Lia reassured you. You waved her off with a laugh. 

“It’s fine,” you said, grinning as you sat beside her. “I got turned during a bad date, and I spent a few weeks as a whole new woman and never saw nor heard from that asshole ever again. Lia found me crying in the library. She didn’t even say anything. She just sat with me and held me.” You shifted in your seat, looking at the humble red of Lia’s cheeks as she gave you a small smile. “She helped me to get my work study job in the library, and she taught me what I needed to know to survive. And now I wish she’d tell me what it is I’m supposed to be protecting myself from, because no one else will.”

Lia’s blush drained from her face as she set her mug down. “Yuna,” she said, “go wake up the girls. They’ve slept in long enough.”

You both watched as Yuna sighed and dragged her feet out of the kitchen before Lia firmly set her hands on the album in front of her. “Sweetheart,” she began carefully, “I’m so happy you’re here, but I’m… it’s a hard story to tell. I’ll tell you once I’m ready.”

“Lia,” you feebly tried again, “please. I can’t keep not knowing what I’m running from.”

“I know,” she choked out. Her fingers nervously drummed on the countertop. “I know, and it’ll happen, but not right this second.”

Her hands were shaking as you took them in yours. “Lia,” you pleaded, “you have to—“

“ _ No, she doesn’t. _ ” Joanne stood defiantly in the doorway to the kitchen. “I’d appreciate it if you would knock it off. She was gracious enough to let you and your friend stay here; she doesn’t owe you any rushed answers.” 

“I just—“

“No.” Joanne said simply as she stepped forward and put a reassuring hand on Lia’s shoulder. “Do you have time? Will the world end if you don’t find out right this second?”

“No,” you stammered, “I suppose—“

“That’s settled, then. If you want to know so bad then go ask your friend. It’s bullshit he hasn’t already if he cares about you so much.” You looked at the girls, wondering what exactly felt different when they entered the room, when you realized they smelled like Jisung. The faint perfume of summer buttercups and fresh venison was almost taunting you, along with the healthy flush adorning all three girls’ cheeks. 

“Right,” you said skeptically. Lucy cocked an eyebrow. 

“It’s true,” Lucy said as she set the kettle on the stove. “He cares about you.”

“He wouldn’t stop talking about you last night,” Judy added as she rummaged through the cupboards for a teabag. “He said he felt bad for keeping things from you.”

“Then why won’t he tell me?!” You reeled in frustration, setting your head in your hands on the counter. 

“Because boys are stupid,” Joanne shrugged, “or it’s something he’s had to come to terms with on his own.”

“And if he says it’s not his place to say?” You sighed. 

“If that’s how he feels, then it looks like that’s what you’re up against. Either he tells you or you’re waiting until Lia is ready.”

You tersely apologized and excused yourself from the kitchen before heading upstairs to find Jisung. No light shone under the crack of his door, and as you gently turned the doorknob and pushed, you were confronted with an empty room. Jisung’s bag sat on an easy chair in the corner and the bed was somewhat made, but there were otherwise no signs of him. Next, you checked the study down the hall, the blankets that you assumed usually sat on the large couch and plush chairs in front of the fireplace piled up on the rug in a twisted heap. As clean as the lush rug was, you spied a faint ghost of a blood stain still haunting the polished hardwood floor beside it. You crinkled your nose at the prospect, and now you were humoring the idea of actually being jealous. The concept was foreign to you, having never needed to be confronted before, and certainly not like this. 

Your head swam as you pulled on a coat and ventured downstairs, when Yuna passed you in the hall and lightly suggested that you could check outside. The paths were well-lit and she’d already seen Jisung admiring the garden from her window when she’d woken up. The car could be seen in the open garage as you headed to the side garden. You stepped onto the back porch and saw two lamps on the ground leading towards a stretch of cobblestone heading out past the tree line. As you followed the winding path of lamps and lanterns, you were presented with a private inlet of a gorgeous lake. Jisung was silhouetted by the light of the moon continuing its slow wane in the night sky as he reclined on a worn lawn chair by the charming fire pit. Jisung didn’t turn to see you as you sat beside him, only feeling your presence as you both watched the gentle waves lap at the shore. 

“You look lonely,” you greeted. You were just fine staring ahead as well. 

“I  _ feel _ lonely. More than usual.” Jisung sighed. He smelled different, too — a spring bouquet of girls who didn’t carry a mountain of baggage. Did they smell you on him, all mourning flowers and trouble if Chan was to be believed? You grimaced up at the moon as you settled back into your chair. “I looked around the house today while you were sleeping,” Jisung explained, “but snooping felt wrong. I found the view and wanted to check it out again when it was dark.”

You suddenly imagined how tired and alone Jisung must’ve been at all times to keep up with Shepherd, let alone you. In these colder months, the day only lasted about nine hours, but during the summer there would be no way he could sleep more than half the day away. What did he do with all that free time? You suddenly pictured Jisung spending all his extra hours reading or cleaning at the shop, or lounging in front of the large windows of Shepherd’s manor. Maybe riding his motorbike up and down the coast. Alone. Your heart ached. Jisung deserved closure, friends, a new life that didn’t involve running from trouble. 

“Sometimes I wonder if this would be easier if I were like you.”

“What?” You stared, surprised with how casually he’d said it. 

“I think about it,” he said, still pensively looking out at the lake, “even more lately. Shepherd offered years ago. He said we could get an assistant for the both of us, maybe two.” A thick shiver ran down his spine and you caught him react to it out of the corner of your eye. “Who knows how I’d be involved now if I took him up on it?”

“Jisung,” you shook your head, “ _ this _ is even lonelier. This arrangement Lia has isn’t normal. If you aren’t well-connected or rich — and Lia is both — everyone is practically on their own.”

“You’re not on your own,” Jisung lightly retorted, “you have me.” He jumped as you gently took his hand into your own. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, “I keep wanting to protect you. After the other night… I don’t know what happened with you and Chan, but… I mean, I’m glad he got you out of there, but…” Jisung sighed deeply, his chest sinking as he sat back in the chair. “I guess what I’m saying is I’m glad you’re safe, and I’m sorry I’ve been keeping things from you. I hope you understand.”

Jisung flinched as you leaned forward and gently tugged at the collar of his jacket, revealing a myriad of bites. It wasn’t a stretch to imagine they formed a constellation down his chest as well. If he had any from you still, they were masked now. As he turned to face you, his eyes flitted down towards your exposed knees under your skirt, and you suddenly felt like a teenager again, uselessly pining over a boy that was better off without you, even as he was comically noticing you looking different. His pulse jumped as your fingers brushed over his healing wounds. Maybe he felt the way you did the previous night, praying to a false god that you’d kiss him.

“Did you at least have fun?” You lightly teased. 

“Don’t make fun of me,” Jisung sighed, but a relieved smile still cracked out. He suddenly laughed in exasperation as he buried his face in his hands. “It was  _ so _ awkward.”

You didn’t have to walk back to the house alone, thankfully, as Jisung walked beside you with his hands firmly in his pockets. The rest of the night was kept fairly casual, and Jisung was even able to get some extra rest. You considered that maybe he’d diagnosed your need for more sleep based on his own. He awoke once more after a moderate nap and ventured downstairs, where he found you sitting in front of where Lia was perched on the living room couch as she brushed your hair. This was one of Lia’s favorite pastimes. You’d forgotten how much you loved this kind of attention, but Lia never did, especially considering that the girls all seemed to love it as well. Lucy sat atop an easy chair, wrestling Yuna’s hair into a ponytail resembling her own after she apparently already wrestled Joanne into a perfect bun. Even though she looked thoroughly nonplussed, Joanne still hummed contentedly as she flipped through a magazine. Outside, the soft whisper of rainfall began, and it was nice to see the moon retreat for a bit. 

Jisung watched quietly from the doorway, not quite able to hide his surprise as Judy dusted some rouge onto your cheeks. You couldn’t blame him; making yourself up hadn’t exactly been a priority since you first came to stay with your aunt, but it was nice to feel pretty for a change. Judy made a kissy face at you, poking out her lips as she brandished a lipstick before she meticulously swiped it on for you. Jisung had helped himself to another easy chair in the room and set a book he’d pilfered from the study onto his lap when Lia suddenly stopped her brushing. You felt her slim fingers dip into the collar of your sweater, gently pulling the soft knit aside to run her fingers over the scar of Rand’s bite. 

“Sweetheart,” she lightly chided, “what happened to you?” The girls looked from Lia, to your scar, to Jisung, making him jolt. He held his hands up in innocence, helplessly babbling as he motioned for you to say something.

“I said you’d be able to piece together why we’re here,” you sighed forlornly. At the rate you’d been going, you could only scare Lia so much before she threw you out. 

“So this is…” Lia’s tone was metered, like she needed to pace herself. You looked to Jisung who warily nodded his encouragement to you. 

“It’s a wolf bite,” you admitted, holding no one’s gaze but Jisung’s. “A pack leader tried to claim me.” 

“Typical,” Joanne muttered as she set her magazine down. To your surprise, Lia shushed her. 

“Joanne,” she admonished as she looked you over, “we don’t generalize.” Joanne blushed before sheepishly picking up her magazine again. Meanwhile, Lia kept poking and prodding. “How long ago did this happen?”

“A few nights ago.” 

Jisung’s eyes were still searching you, and as you tried to search him in return, all you came back with were questions. 

“Really?” Lia wondered, almost casually. “You look so good and healthy I never would’ve guessed. You must have fed pretty well right after or this could’ve been so much worse.”

Jisung was almost silently daring you in this wordless stand-off you were having. Why was it making you nervous? You took a deep breath and committed. 

“I did.”

Jisung got up with a start, the easy chair squeaking on the hardwood floor as he stormed off. The girls all watched, bewildered at the outburst, but waited until he could be heard ascending the grand staircase in the foyer. 

“What was that about?” Lucy asked. 

“He doesn’t like who I fed on,” you sighed, eyes downcast towards your lap, “and I don’t blame him.”

“You should talk to him,” Judy sympathetically suggested as she scooped up her cosmetics into her bag. 

“Or you could give him space,” Joanne added. You groaned. 

“Whatever I do, I need to think about it,” you decided. “I’ll head upstairs, too, then. Thanks for hanging out.” You gave Lia a firm hug and waved to the girls before turning and heading upstairs as well. 

You paused at the top of the stairs, listening to the rain pound outside. Down one direction was Jisung’s room, where the light dimly shone beneath his door. You promptly turned heel and walked the other way and into your room instead. It felt cowardly, but how could you even begin to confront this? You weren’t even sure Jisung had any room to be jealous. You weren’t together, and you did what you needed to do to survive. Whatever the small voice was that had dominated you that night was apparently sated, and it was difficult to feel like you could be held responsible for everything you did to appease it. In fact, the more you thought about it and mulled it over, the more frustrated you became. Jisung had to have known that you fed that night, or else you wouldn’t be in as good of shape. For that matter, where did Jisung get off acting like that when he was just fooling around with the girls the previous night? Surely he didn’t even realize how hypocritical he looked. 

You were annoyed as you rummaged through your bag for some comfy clothes and makeup remover when a soft knock sounded at the door. Time seemed to slow as your fingers hovered at the door, only kept by the metronome of rain pattering against the window. 

The second you turned the smooth brass knob, the door swung towards you as Jisung barged his way in, his hands in your hair and his lips on yours the second he crossed the threshold until you shoved him off. You swiftly shut the door behind you and turned to face him. Your lipstick was smeared across his mouth.

“ _ What the hell do you think you’re doing? _ ” You quietly berated him. 

Jisung leaned back against the dresser in the room, chest heaving in his adrenaline. You pictured him working up the energy and courage to do this back in his room before coming here. “Just say you fucked him.”

“Why does it matter?” You sputtered. 

“If it doesn’t matter then why are you so defensive? I  _ know _ you had to have fed that night, but you wouldn’t even tell me that. What else aren’t you telling me? Just say you fucked him.”

“ _ Holy shit _ ,” you laughed in disbelief, “are you being serious right now? I’ve asked you multiple times how you’re doing and you keep insisting you’re  _ fine! _ ”

“Just say you fucked him!” 

“ _ Fine! _ ” You snapped. “I  _ fucked _ him. I fucked him that night the library got robbed and I went looking for him again, and some detective pointed me towards the shore and I found  _ you _ . You happy?”

“And the other night?” Jisung squared up against you indignantly.

“ _ Yes _ , you jerk,” you spat, knowing very well that you were just working each other up, “I fucked him!”

Jisung stared at you, his fists clenched on the lip of the dresser before he grabbed your wrist, yanking you close as he furiously kissed you again. The only difference was this time you fully accepted, even as Jisung turned you both around and pressed your hips into the dresser with his own. Your smeared lipstick on him blended to contrast with his skin flushed with arousal. Your fingers curled into his hair, but not without brushing over the healing scars of his bites. Jisung grunted as you shoved him back, but he held fast to your waist even as you forcefully tilted his head back to see his throat better in the moonlight streaking in through the rain on the window. Your thumb traced over the marks and he caught the look in your eye.

“You’re jealous,” he remarked with a triumphant smirk. You defensively shoved him again and he drove forward, pushing your hips back onto the dresser to set you on top of it. He pushed forward between your spread knees and you pulled at him, hopelessly betraying your need as you began to unbutton his shirt. 

“So are you,” you retorted. Jisung’s eyes narrowed before he grabbed you close for another heated kiss, his hands on your hips pulling at the hem of your sweater and tugging it off over your head. He paused, only for a moment as his fingers ran over Rand’s bite. 

“ _ I’m starting to hate how much I want you _ ,” Jisung said, almost a whisper but thoroughly a confession. This time you were the one to pull him close, getting the last few buttons of his shirt and yanking it open. His toned chest was bare aside from his scar; no bites. You grabbed his hand, turning the palm towards you and bringing it close to investigate. The only bites Jisung had were on his throat and wrists. He cupped your face, and his bandaged fingers were warm and gentle on your skin. His thumb affectionately, longingly, caressed your lower lip. Jisung’s eyes widened for a moment as you parted your lips and took the digit into your mouth. He playfully prodded at the retracted tip of one of your canines. Jisung hissed out a groan as you began softly sucking on his thumb between your lips. He watched, almost hypnotized as he rolled his hips against yours.  _ “I can’t believe you fucked him,” _ he quietly lamented. 

You moaned around his thumb, letting him have his hand back as you pushed his open shirt off of him. “Jisung,” you keened, “I’m sorry. I want you.”

Jisung paused, the silence only moderated by the raindrops outside. “What about him?”

“What  _ about _ him? I’m here, with you. I’m all yours.” You had hardly allowed yourself to consider it, and perhaps it was the haze of lust and infatuation burning into you, but it felt so right to say that you would say it as much as he wanted. 

Jisung was electrified at your admission, both of you moaning into each other as he dove back into you. His lips were on yours, his breath and tongue hot in your mouth as both of you whimpered and whined, before he dipped down to kiss and nip at your neck. 

“Say it again,” he pleaded. 

“I’m all yours.” You moaned, your head pressing back against the large mirror sitting on top of the dresser as Jisung kissed his way down to your breasts. His tongue teased and taunted your pert nipples while his hands pushed your skirt up enough to start sliding off your soaked panties. Jisung looked up at you as he dropped to his knees and you watched intently as he placed the softest kiss to your damp heat. His first taste brought out his hunger, and Jisung spread your legs further to greedily taste you even more. You hooked your legs over his shoulders, your fingers gripping into his hair as he enthusiastically worked you over with his tongue, when you heard it. 

“ _ Fuck, I love you _ ,” he moaned quietly against you, and you were sure he said it in the heat of the moment, but you had to know. Your fingers in his hair tugged him up to look at you from between your legs and he did, eyes sparkling and drunk. 

“What did you just say?” You asked as you caught your breath.

Jisung’s eyes widened as he realized what, exactly, he had just said. “I didn’t— I meant—“

“Say it again.”

Jisung nodded, blindly determined and brazenly wiping his chin with the back of his hand as he got up, kissing you hard as you wrestled with his belt before he grabbed your wrist. You watched as he swiftly dug his erection out and prodded it against your dripping entrance. With just the leaking head pushing into you, he was able to get his hand free. 

“ _ You _ say it again,” he implored with a grin, snatching your other wrist as you tried to grind your hips onto his length, “you’re the one that fucked him.”

“I’m all yours,” you breathed. You were desperate to have him again. Jisung’s hands slid free from your wrists so his bandaged fingers could intertwine with yours. He pushed your hands back against the mirror as he steadily slid into you, both your gasps meeting between your parted lips as he kissed you again. His tight grip on you only lasted a few hard thrusts before his hands relinquished you to delicately cup your face. He kissed you deep and buried his nose in the crook of your neck, enveloping you in his soft scent of buttercups, of sunbathing deer as he thrust into you. 

“I love you,” he gently moaned, over and over, the desperate waver in his voice still apparent even as he muffled himself against your skin. He held fast to your legs wrapped around his waist as he effectually made love to you, his soft groans and gasps making you even dizzier than you already were when paired with the infatuated kisses he pressed to your neck and shoulder. As you felt his lips graze the mauled skin of Rand’s bite, something ignited as so thoroughly genuine about Jisung’s affection for you that you found your harried breaths hitting the marks left from the girls on his throat and finally feeling unfettered by it — here he was, here and all yours, thrusting hard and burying himself deep within you on the dresser. Jisung’s hand slipped between you where your hips met, his slim fingers deftly toying with your clit with each proceeding curse and groan uttered under his breath. 

Your hands held tight onto Jisung, gripping his arms or digging your nails into his chest or the toned expanse of his back — wherever you could get a hold on him as you climbed your peak. 

“Jisung—“ you whimpered, careful not to let your head loll back against the mirror even as Jisung fucked you harder. 

“Say it again, baby,” he pleaded sweetly. 

Jisung groaned sharply as you dug your fingers back into his hair and made him look at you.

“You’re  _ mine _ ,” you panted defiantly. 

His dilated eyes shined, glazed over and dark as a shiver coursed through him at your declaration. 

“ _ You’re _ mine,” he retorted. 

Despite how much you willed it otherwise, your eyes still screwed shut as your orgasm rocked through you, Jisung crying out and kissing you wantonly as you felt him spill deep inside you in turn. Your shared kiss outlasted both your climaxes, both your shuddering hips remaining connected until Jisung finally pulled his wilted erection from you. Jisung kissed your lips, your cheek, your forehead before he retreated to the restroom to clean up. You followed, surprising him as you reached for his jeans and casually pulled them off along with any clothing he had left. He laughed languidly as he did the same for you, as well as taking a moment to pointedly take in your naked form before he affectionately pushed you into bed and crawled in behind you. 

“I didn’t sleep with the girls, by the way,” Jisung sleepily explained, his voice tickling the hair on your neck. 

“You didn’t?”

“Christ, no,” Jisung laughed as he wrapped his arms around you, “I was way too awkward about the whole thing.”

The rain outside made it easy to feel tired and comfortable in bed, but something was still keeping you from falling asleep even as the sun began to rise. 

“ _ I killed him, Jay. _ ” You said it quietly, uttering it into the pillow. Jisung’s hand twitched where it held you. 

“I know, baby,” Jisung said, almost surprising you into sitting up. His lips pressed to the back of your neck to soothe you. “I figured, at least.”

The white noise from outside took precedence over the room again. 

“Did you mean it, Jay?”

“Mean what?” Jisung was practically asleep behind you. 

“Do you love me?”

“I think so,” Jisung tiredly nodded against you. “I’m a little new at this, sure, but it feels right. I love you tonight, at least. I did yesterday. And I probably will tomorrow.”

That was good enough for you, you decided, as Jisung snuggled more comfortably against you in your bed. You couldn’t smell the girls on him anymore, just like you couldn’t hear Chan insisting that you belonged to him before you killed him, and this waking dream was nearly too ideal. You didn’t belong to anyone, sure, but Jisung didn’t claim you; he only wanted you and made it almost too easy to want him as well. This wasn’t ownership if you were more than willing, and if this was real then you could consider accepting. 

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑

The following night was the first time you’d thrown up in years — easily since you were first turned and living in constant stress and fear. The rain outside had seemingly never stopped, greeting you again as you snapped awake to a rebelling stomach. You lurched out of the bathroom, exhausted after repeatedly rinsing your mouth out and lazily picking up Jisung’s shed flannel shirt up off the floor, still there from the previous night and slipping it on. 

You weren’t surprised to find that Jisung wasn’t there, but it was refreshing to be confident it wasn’t for cold feet, but rather being understandably unable to sleep all day. Nonetheless, he still seemingly sensed you’d awoken as he opened your door, his borrowed book in hand once more as he greeted you with a smile. This was a little new for you as well, not feeling quite sure if you were ready for a kiss good morning or even a hug. Really, the previous night felt like an anomaly and may very well continue to for a few days. You considered asking him to join you for breakfast, maybe some coffee, when the rumbling of an engine cut through the downpour outside. 

You both peeked out the window, unable to make out much in the dim driveway through the rain-streaked glass except for a dilapidated cargo van idling on the gravel below. The girls could be heard downstairs as you pulled on last night’s panties and padded down the hall to the landing with Jisung trotting behind you. You buttoned up your borrowed shirt as Judy was seen down the stairs, leaning out the front door before ducking back inside. 

“Who is it?” Lucy asked as she and Joanne joined you on the landing. Lia and Yuna peered in from the direction of the kitchen. 

”Campers,” Judy explained, “it looks like one of them was hurt out on the trail and needs somewhere to stay until morning.”

“What’re you doing?” Joanne scolded. “Tell them to get the hell out.”

“But they need help,” Yuna shifted uncomfortably. She looked to Lia, who looked up at you. You looked to Jisung, who only shrugged back helplessly. 

“The nearest town is too far away,” Lia decided. “We’ll let them wait for an ambulance if they’re really in that bad of shape.”

Joanne and Lucy simmered as Judy ducked her head back outside before opening the door. 

“ _ Thank you, seriously, _ ” a stranger’s voice thanked her graciously as the door swung open. Your knees nearly gave out from under you. Your stomach lurched again. 

The freckled boy from the pack — Felix — stood in the doorway, supporting Chan with an arm slung around his shoulder as the rain cascaded outside. Almost as if he sensed you, Chan looked right up the stairs at you. 

“My little fox,” he grinned, “I thought I smelled trouble.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted to skzctnightnight.tumblr.com! 💕


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get tense when an unwelcome visitor returns.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : 🌕 ⭒ 🌗 ⭒ 🌑 : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

_ “My little fox,” Chan grinned, “I thought I smelled trouble.” _

Your blood ran cold despite the meager clothing you were wearing on the landing, and apparently the others sensed yours and Jisung’s sudden alert at the ghost currently haunting the doorway. However, when you looked behind you, Jisung was nowhere to be seen. There was no time for waiting, though; you stalked down the stairs and tried to shove Chan and Felix back out the door. 

“I do not know what the fuck you think you’re doing here,” you hissed, “but it would be in your best interest to get the hell out.”

“It would be in  _ your _ best interest if we stayed,” Chan shook his head defiantly, “even if you did try to kill me.”

He had the audacity to scoff out a harsh laugh as you grabbed for Lia’s shotgun by the door, but this was quickly pulled right out of your hands. You wheeled around to see Lia holding the gun down by her side. 

“Sweetheart,” Lia interjected, her words injected with saccharine propriety. She would’ve tried to shake hands with death before going anywhere, you were sure of it. Judy and Yuna were holding hands where they hid behind the shorter woman, standing tall even as her voice wavered. “Who is this?” 

“Remember how I’ve been in some trouble lately?” You glowered. That was all that needed to be said, apparently. Lia was instantly on your side, shooting a glare in Chan’s direction as she raised the head of the gun a couple inches but kept her finger off the trigger. 

“I agree, then,” she announced, “I think you’d do well to leave now.”

“Julia, I need to explain something,” Chan tried, hands up in innocence, “I promise I’m not here with any ill-intent against you.”

Lia backed up a step, her eyes darting back to meet yours as you both silently wondered where he learned her name. Before you could follow this line of questioning, though, Jisung made his presence known as he marched down the stairs. Felix’s startled gasp surprised you, and you turned to see what he was reacting to. Your stomach lurched again, threatening to repeat its betrayal from earlier. Jisung held his own gun aloft, the ornate pearl handle clutched in his hand with the barrel pointed squarely at Chan. “We made ourselves pretty fucking clear,” Jisung spat, “and you’ve done more than enough damage already. Get the hell out.”

“ _ I’ve _ done more than enough damage?” Chan sneered as he snatched Jisung’s wrist, effortlessly twisting it until Jisung let go of the revolver with a hissed curse. Chan handed it to Felix to free up his hand. Thinking quickly, you lunged forward, shoving the younger man back and grabbing the gun yourself out of Felix’s presented palm before stepping back next to Lia. 

Chan raised his hands again, but not without reaching into his jacket pocket first. You kept the gun aimed at the floor, finger off the trigger as you eyed him warily. He withdrew the other journal, apparently having found it in the boiler room after all the fuss when you left him to bleed. “I’m in deep shit with the department,” he explained to you, but he still cautiously eyed all the occupants in the room, “I’ve been extending this investigation so long that I’ve lost almost everyone. All my contacts are dropping off the map, all my resources are getting cut off, all of this to try and freeze me out and make me close the case. So  _ this _ ,” he gestured with the journal, “was a blessing. I was able to cross-reference every name and place in here with Shepherd’s record, your record, and even  _ his _ .” Chan stared daggers at Jisung, who quickly stepped behind you now that he was defenseless again, before Chan looked to Lia now. “You’ve only gone by your real name again in the past ten years, haven’t you? You attended the university as your own granddaughter.”

Lia cautiously eyed Chan before she looked back to you. You were just as stuck. Lia sighed. “What are you asking for exactly?”

“I’ve been with the latest pack trying to get Shepherd’s help. They’ve done everything he’s asked, which means they’ve left quite a bit of damage behind them that hasn’t been accounted for. I want to get to them before they try to finish what they started. I’m here because if they’re as smart as I’m afraid they are, they shouldn’t be far behind me.”

“Is Lia even mentioned in the other journal at all?” You countered. 

“The journals are mixed,” Jisung sighed behind you, “literally. When Shepherd completed both volumes, it looked like he unbound the two and mixed the sections into two new bindings.”

“Fine,” Lia decided. All of you stopped to look at her. “If it’ll help stop this once and for all, you can stay. We’ll put you in the guest room by the study… But stay away from my girls.”

“Had no intention of getting close,” Chan reassured her before he tugged at the hood of Felix’s jacket, “and thank you.” Felix gave Judy another grateful smile before Chan pulled him outside. 

You wheeled on the poor girl as the front door clicked shut. She cowered by Lia’s arm. “Why did you let them in?!”

“I didn’t know—” she squeaked. 

“You didn’t know?! They reek of wolves and—”

“Sweetheart,” Lia scolded you with a deep frown as she stepped in front of Judy. She gently set the shotgun back down by the door. “It’s raining outside. You can hardly smell anything out there. I’ve protected Judy and her sister as long as they’ve been here, so they’ve still never even had to meet a wolf before. They wouldn’t know what one smells like.”

“I’m sorry,” Judy meekly apologized from behind Lia’s shoulder. You heaved out a sigh. 

“It’s alright,” you lamented, “you didn’t know. I’m sorry, too.”

“We’re all sorry,” Lia placated, “now let’s deal with this. Take  _ that—” _ she said as she pointed to the gun still in your hand, “and put it the hell away. Jisung, I hope I never have to see it again.”

“Yes, Lia,” Jisung weakly agreed. He grabbed your sleeve and pulled you upstairs before ducking into his room to grab his things. You helped gather up his belongings, bundling up the clothes and books he’d left out before trotting back down the hall to your own room. Lia could be heard directing Chan and Felix to their room as you shut your door behind you. Jisung jumped as you finally turned on him. 

“A fucking  _ gun _ , Jisung?!” You instantly started. 

“I know, I know,” Jisung moaned, “it was reckless and stupid. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Where did you even get this?!”

“I think it was Shepherd’s,” Jisung said quietly, “I found it the night he was killed before the cops came. I have no clue why I took it. It made me feel safe to have it.”

“Do  _ not _ let me ever see you with this thing again unless you suddenly learn how to use it,” you berated him. You took the gun sitting heavy in your hands and opened the drawer of the bedside table, before setting it inside and slamming it shut. Your hand paused on top of the hardwood surface as you got your thoughts back in order. “How are you feeling?”

“Freaking out a little,” Jisung admitted. “I know it’s stupid.”

“That’s not stupid,” you sighed. You turned to face Jisung, stepping into his space. “Is it him and me?”

Jisung nodded thoroughly.

“I was all yours last night and I’m all yours tonight,” you reminded Jisung before you kissed his cheek in hopes of moving on, before you heard Lia giving Chan a cursory tour of the house outside in the hall. Jisung visibly prickled at the sound. 

“I loved you last night and I love you tonight,” Jisung finally returned with a sigh. “Just… promise me. Promise me you won’t talk to that bastard. We don’t talk to him, and we stay the hell away from him.”

“Had no intention of doing otherwise,” you nodded, brushing your thumb along Jisung’s cheek as you cupped his face. He pulled you close, and your gut finally calmed down enough to feel safe for a moment. 

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : 🌗 ⭒ 🌑 ⭒ 🌓 : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

That first night and the next were utterly disconcerting, having apparently been plucked straight from your own personal purgatory. You could only imagine how Lia and the girls felt. They had been living this quiet and secluded life, only having to worry about the occasional boyfriend or blood donor, and now you’d paraded in an entire heap of trouble. Maybe Chan had a point, an idea you fiercely despised. The whole giant house suddenly felt cramped. Your stomach was in more knots than that first night, and each time you woke up you had to sneak away to the en suite to empty your guts. Nothing felt better. 

Not to mention Jisung was a mess. As Chan seemed to finally get back up to speed, walking and working just fine, Jisung was a nervous wreck. He was finally starting to look more put together, his black eye finally faded and a mostly normal glow returning to his skin in the time since Chan worked him over a couple weeks prior. His busted knuckles had faded to simple callouses, and the stitches in his brow weren’t going to scar so badly once you got him to stop picking at them. But that wasn’t the problem. Jisung was hardly leaving your side. The moment you’d found him after waking up, guzzling more coffee than usual in Lia’s kitchen, he would follow you from room to room to room, or join you while you tried to read or get your mind off things. It was night three that you needed to do something about it. 

“Jisung,” you finally started, having led him all the way from your room to the laundry room to grab your dry clothes, and back.

“What?”

“You  _ can not  _ keep following me.”

“I’m  _ not _ following you,” Jisung forced out with a fake laugh. 

“Jay, please,” you pleaded, dropping the laundry basket onto the bed and cupping Jisung’s face. “Work with me here. You have to tell me what’s wrong. No secrets.”

“It’s nothing!” Jisung tittered, trying to keep it light as he leaned his soft cheek into your palm. “It’s  _ nothing _ , I’m just hanging out with you! What else would I be doing?”

“I don’t know,” you groaned, “what about the car? You said it needed work, something about the — what was it — the, er—”

“Timing belt?” He flatly answered. 

“Yes!” You replied enthusiastically. “You could be working on the car, or hiking, or—”

“I understand that,” Jisung sighed tiredly, “it’s just, you know—”

“Just  _ what _ , Jay?”

_ “Ugh,” _ Jisung groaned sharply, “it’s you fucking him! I can’t believe I’m admitting it. It was one thing when he was dead and all I could do was get over it but—”

Jisung paused as Chan could be heard berating Felix in the hallway as they walked past. _ “—I don’t really care, Felix. I’m not doing this to hurt you, I’m telling you because I care and—” _ Where were they walking come from? They were going towards their room, not coming from it. You looked back to Jisung. He was fuming. 

“If I have to think of that idiot’s hands on you one more time I think I’ll try killing him again myself,” Jisung muttered before he turned away from you, hands roughly shoved in his pockets. You quickly stepped forward as the two men could still be heard quietly arguing down the hall. Trouble had apparently been cropping up everywhere once Chan was back to his old self again. 

“Jisung? Jay? What did I tell you,” you attempted to reason with him as you grabbed his hand. 

“I know, you’re all mine,” he sighed, “but having him be here is god awful and—”

“And  _ nothing _ , Jisung,” you soothed him. “You’re not going to magically lose me if I’m not in your sight every waking minute. We’re getting past it together. It was the hunger, even though I know that barely matters. I’m all yours.”

Jisung finally softened for a moment, his hand gratefully squeezing yours — that is, until the two wolves could be heard coming back down the hallway. Felix was apparently coming in hot to get his word in. _ “—don’t understand, Chan. You’re not my dad, you’re not really my brother, and it sounds like the only wrong thing that fucking girl in that fucking room ever did was try to kill you, and I think I’m starting to understand why. Otherwise, all I know about her and her kind is apparently she’s the most perfect fuck you’ve ever had in your life—” _

The commotion finally died down when the door to Chan and Felix’s room slammed shut down the hall. Jisung’s face was cryptic as you searched him. “Jisung, I—”

You were cut off into a muffled gasp as Jisung yanked on your hand in his, pulling you into him hard enough that he fell back against the dresser as he desperately kissed you.

“Jisung, talk to me—” you urged him.

“I will, I promise,” Jisung groaned into your mouth as he clutched onto your hips, “I just need you right now, okay?”

He backed up, just a breath away, and his gaze was clouded with whatever maelstrom was taking place inside of him. The mere thought of Jisung being so conflicted over this made your heart crumple in on itself, something you knew you were only coddling as you let him kiss you again. And, really, it was so easy once you realized how much you needed Jisung, too. A shadow lurked in you that you thought was just hunger, whispering to you with that same low voice as before when you had mauled Chan, but what was even louder was the longing that suddenly ripped through you. All you could do was give in to both, kissing Jisung hard in return as he pushed your leggings down and off and grappled you into his arms. 

You couldn’t hear Chan and Felix arguing down the hall anymore, but you probably couldn’t anyway between your shared gasps and sighs while Jisung pinned you up against the wall by your bedroom door, fumbling with his zipper before he could sink into you. He keened at the squeeze of your walls around him with what almost sounded like a sigh of relief, his hands clutching your thigh wrapped around him as you gasped in pleasure against him and let the extending tips of your canines graze his throat. Jisung moaned deep while his hands roamed over you, even leaning his head over to let you gently nip into him while he fucked you into the wall. Just that simple action of you piercing him made him stiffen up, his whole body seemingly holding back from tearing into you once you moaned at the taste of him. As much as you craved the sensation, it was easy to forget how much this apparently felt heavenly to Jisung. Your head swam, a cacophony of  _ wanting  _ Jisung, and wanting to  _ feed  _ on Jisung, and wanting to  _ talk  _ to Jisung all yelling over each other until the first wash of blood ran down your throat. Everything in you turned to static. Jisung sighed out an airy whine of pure satisfaction the moment you came up for air, his hand gently cupping your face again.

“I wish I could tell you just how beautiful you are,” Jisung murmured, his voice soft even as he thrust hard into you, “especially like this. I swear your eyes get darker when you feed. It’s—”

The door down the hall swung back open as Chan apparently followed Felix into the hallway. This was actually torture. _ “—and that’s fine, Chan, whatever, I’m going to get some fucking fresh air, but if you’d like I could remind you of how I fucking held you while you were trying not to die and all you could do was joke that at least she finished you off before she finished you off—” _

_ “Felix, I—”  _ Chan didn’t finish his thought, apparently deciding that he needed to give Felix his space, but not without punching the bannister out of frustration first. However, his bedroom door didn’t close again, and you didn’t hear him go down the stairs. Jisung apparently couldn’t be bothered to wonder the same, or maybe it was in spite of that which led him to thrust more roughly into you, that unresolved jealousy clearly eating through him as you whined and whimpered once you resumed feeding on him again. 

The way Jisung fit inside you — or even fit inside your life — seemed almost too well meshed when his breaths began to grow ragged the second you felt your peak coming. You finally felt fed, and Jisung looked so beautiful but so conflicted as you finally winced and sighed through your easy orgasm. Jisung held you steady, still pinning you to the wall and not letting up until he got his. 

“Say it again,” he sweetly begged while he dragged his lips along your jaw and throat. You didn’t think twice about it. 

“I’m all yours,” you gasped, and held tight onto him as he clutched tighter onto you in return. Jisung sloppily kissed you again before he spilled into you, his hushed groans almost sounding like laments. Chan could finally be heard stalking down the stairs. 

Jisung was still a mess, obviously, but the impromptu sex seemed to take the edge off, at least physically. You finally got him to give you a little space. The next night you awoke and didn’t find him drinking his fourth cup of coffee in the kitchen. He wasn’t reading in the study or flipping through channels in the den. When you poked your head outside, you could see light coming from the garage. It was nice, sneaking outside and peeking around the corner, catching Jisung rummaging around under the hood of his car, the sleeves of his worn flannel rolled up to his elbows while he listened to the radio. 

Even the next night, again, you found Jisung right back in the garage. It wasn’t like you hadn’t seen him at all the previous night, you’d had a fun time playing board games for the first time in years with Lia’s girls, but you wondered if perhaps you overcorrected and now Jisung wouldn’t feel the desire to come see you when you woke up anymore. You silently peered into the garage, catching sight of him as he wiped some sweat off his brow and was careful to avoid his healing stitches with the grease on his arm. Jisung looked almost like he was concentrating, and on more than just the car. You couldn’t blame him. With how relaxed Jisung had seemed just the previous week, back when things were starting to look a little brighter, you could imagine he’d finally felt like this whole nightmare was starting to slow down to a manageable pace. 

You decided to let Jisung have his space for a little bit, at least if he was seeking it out himself now. Out of sheer curiosity, you decided to check out the edge of the lake while the moon was still high up, the bright crescent more than likely lighting up the water in a gorgeous way. You had a sinking feeling that quiet nights like this should be counted as a blessing. Twigs snapped underfoot, and you carefully walked along the path only somewhat lit by dim lanterns, but froze when you noticed someone out by the water’s edge, lounging in one of the worn lawn chairs by the fire pit. 

Chan. 

He was seemingly at ease, or at least attempting to be. Apparently Lia had some beer stowed away in the house that you hadn’t bothered to find yet, but Chan had, unless he had his own secret stash. However he’d conjured the bottle in his hand, he nursed the brew as he brooded. You were brought back to that first night, Chan laughing and hanging out with the pack at the bar. He looked so different in such a short amount of time. 

Since he’d arrived, Chan had been able to clean up considerably, despite the showing roots in his ashy blonde hair. His style seemed to relax since he no longer needed to blend in with the pack or camp out for extended periods of time to keep out of trouble. Even with only a shave and a shower, he was just as handsome as that boy at the bar ages ago. Who could’ve guessed that he nearly died only recently? For that matter, who knew what he had needed to do to become good as new? You shivered at the thought. 

It was sort of calming, watching Chan seemingly not sense that you were observing him as he sat by the lake. You didn’t need to imagine that this wasn’t terribly different from the rest of the day. When you’d asked Jisung in passing, he said the daylight was mostly spent ardently avoiding each other at all costs, minimizing shared space as much as possible and not exchanging any words if necessary, though Felix did seem approachable and friendly in contrast. This was almost humorous, considering Chan didn’t seem to care one bit about you two hanging out with each other now, or even that you existed. No matter how much Jisung was or wasn’t attached to your hip, he barely glanced in your direction. On the rare occasion you did run into Chan in the house, perhaps catching him around a corner, he almost looked mortified to see you. That one puzzled you. 

At most, Jisung caught Chan keeping to himself and finally studying his investigation materials or even tinkering around with the van they’d nabbed. This was understandable, you supposed, even on Chan’s part. You could still hear him barking vitriol about Jisung — the  _ worm _ , according to him — back in the boiler room. You could still hear how desperately he’d insisted you belonged to each other. He could feel it in his  _ skin _ , he’d said. He’d sounded possessed, something you were scared to consider if you empathized with. 

And you’d tried to kill him. Maybe he was just as scared and confused as you were. According to Jisung, Felix was even harder to keep track of, that first squabble apparently setting a standard between the two wolves. So, perhaps, now on top of everything else already sitting on his broad shoulders, now Chan was stuck in a house full of people who hated him.

You left Chan to quietly consider the lake by himself before you headed back up to the house, maybe see what the girls were up to or if Jisung was done working on the car for the night. The back door just off the kitchen softly clicked shut behind you when you suddenly heard the harsh whispers of the girls in the entryway. You hung back in the kitchen, listening to the disembodied voices talk. 

_ “Chae—Judy, you can’t be this selfish over—” Joanne? _

_ “Selfish?!” _

_ “Think rationally, Jude.” Lucy? “Lia almost never has problems like this but this time she does. Think about what she said.”  _

_ “Oh my god, you both are being ridiculous, just like her. Neither of you understand.” _

_ “Neither do you, Judy. Lia said this is dangerous—” _

_ “What about your sister? Think of Yuna—” _

_ “Do  _ not  _ talk about Yuna like that. We’ve looked out for each other ever since she could walk. I would never do anything to put her in danger.” _

_ “We know, Judy, but what if this  _ is _ putting her in danger and you just don’t know it yet?” _

_ “Stop it, both of you! I love you both, but I don’t have patience for this, from either of you. I’ll be glad to hear whatever Lia has to say if she actually tells me why I should be so concerned.” _

Judy and Lucy were apparently left alone as Judy stormed off upstairs, and you peeked around the corner to see if the coast was clear. You could’ve easily ducked in and looked like you hadn’t been eavesdropping, but you shied away as you saw Jisung hopping down the stairs, still toweling his hair off from a shower. You must’ve been watching Chan at the lake longer than you’d thought if he had time to finish his work and get cleaned up. 

_ “Joanne? Lucy?” _ Jisung asked curiously as he reached the foyer. The girls turned to face him. You could see them attempt to relax from down the corridor. “Are you two alright? Judy looked… pissed.”

_ “It’s fine, she’s fine,”  _ Lucy sighed with a nod, her arms folded as if to give herself a reassuring hug.

_“We’re fine,” _Joanne insisted._ “I appreciate you checking on us though.”_

_ “No, come on,”  _ Jisung tutted, _ “don’t lie. Come talk to me.”  _ He nudged Joanne’s shoulder with his own as he walked with the two girls down the hall towards you. You quickly tensed up and rushed to make it look as if you just happened to already be in the kitchen and weren’t actually listening in. The three appeared glad to see you, and you forced yourself to let your mind relax and enjoy this. You sat in the kitchen, sipping on coffee and catching Jisung up on old stories between you and Lia, even as she herself came down herself to join you with Yuna in tow. It was wonderful, getting to take a moment and enjoy the company of these people you cared for. You just wished it didn’t feel like a blessing. 

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : 🌑 ⭒ 🌓 ⭒ 🌕 : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Jisung was still a mess, only a little less on edge about it. Regularly now, he was dragging you into the nearest secluded area once or sometimes even twice a night to feverishly kiss you or — when it was really bad — fuck you until you both were gasping for air. Last night it was after Chan walked in on you both reading on the couch in the study when he was looking for a book, and now you had the shadow of a sizable love bite next to the scar of your real bite to show for it. Jisung said Chan had given you a  _ look _ , but you didn’t recall ever seeing such a thing. Tonight, where he had pulled you into the den and told you yet again that he  _ needed you _ , was because of something he hadn’t explained yet. 

It was almost as if Jisung was burying something in you, almost staking his claim if you insisted you were his. Admittedly, it  _ was _ relieving and good, or else you hopefully wouldn’t let Jisung keep getting away with doing this instead of talking to you. The way Jisung loved you was like nothing you ever got to experience before, and keeping it and maintaining it was sort of becoming precious to you, even though you still weren’t sure if you entirely felt the same. It wasn’t that you felt you  _ didn’t _ love Jisung — it’s just that you were simply and utterly terrified of that possibility. You already pulled him in this far. Regardless, you occasionally tried to cajole Jisung into opening up more. 

Even now, you slowed your hips as you rode him on one of Lia’s plush easy chairs. “Jay, we can’t keep not talking about this,” you lightly chided, partly from trying not to tire out too quickly, partly from wanting to remain gentle with him.

“What’s to talk about?” He breathlessly asked, now thrusting against his grip on your hips to make up for your dropped pace. “I’m still jealous, he’s still here, and that’s still making it difficult to work it out.”

_ “Jisung,” _ you said, more firmly now, and his glazed eyes sparkled a bit when he looked up into yours as you stilled on his lap. “Come on. You came in from outside and were so fired up that you’re still covered in grime.”

It was true. Jisung was in such a hurry that there were now smudges of oily fingerprints on your thighs from the car. You would have to come back and surreptitiously clean the leather upholstery of the easy chair.

“Oh my god,  _ fine _ ,” Jisung groaned. “I’m warning you: it’s stupid.”

_ “Jay.” _

“Alright, alright, jeez,” he laughed tepidly under his breath in a vain attempt to keep things light. Even still, the facade dropped right away as Jisung’s eyes were quickly downcast in embarrassment. “The idiot snuck up on me in the garage.”

“He  _ what _ ?” Your blood boiled. Jisung’s eyes lit up in alarm.

“No! Not like that. He didn’t really sneak up on me—I mean, he did, but he didn’t do it on purpose, and—”

_ “Oh my god—” _ a deeper voice gasped into a laugh in the doorway. You both froze now with Jisung’s fingers digging into your waist. Mortified, you peeked over the back of the chair to see Felix let out a surprised guffaw and turn to someone beside him, out of view behind the doorway. It was interesting to hear him be so light, considering you’d barely spoken five words to each other since he arrived. _ “Okay, so that’s out of the question—” _ You couldn’t hear much else as Felix and whoever it was promptly scampered back down the hallway.

Jisung let out an amused sigh once you were alone again. “Well,  _ that  _ sucked.”

_ “Jisung,” _ you prodded, your patience starting to run thin as you got him back on track. He looked somewhat hurt that you didn’t forget in those 10 seconds.

“I’m  _ getting there _ ,” he whined. “The mutt asked me to help him check out the cylinders in the van.”

“And?”

Jisung chewed on his lip. He looked almost nervous. “And… it was nice. He was nice. I sort of understood the appeal for two seconds. We had a beer, looked at the van… and he suddenly asked how you’re doing, and I made an awful excuse to get away. I couldn’t handle it all of a sudden.”

“Jay,” you sighed, maybe a touch too condescendingly, “is that everything? That almost sounds like a good time.” The excruciating embarrassment in Jisung’s eyes made you soften up a bit. He was clearly struggling with this. Maybe, you mused, he couldn’t get a grip on his instincts. Maybe he was getting a sense of his own monster for once. 

You smoothed your fingers back through his hair and kissed his temple as you resumed riding him again. It felt selfish to admit that it was gorgeous, the way Jisung was so attentive that even these desperate rendezvous never left you longing for your own climax, that he was so good to you that always got yours, and it was that sense of commitment that made you so beholden to him. Even now, as your core squeezed and climbed its peak, you were still just as lost in the moment as ever. 

_ “I loved you last night and I love you tonight,” _ Jisung murmured into your shoulder, his breath hitching beautifully and his eyebrows knitting together as he tried to feel out the climax he needed so badly.

“I was all yours last night and I’m all yours tonight,” you soothed. Jisung groaned and tensed at your reassurance, a phrase he seemed to lean on and lean into with each utterance, and soon he held you down against him as you came to a languid yet satisfying finish, your orgasm almost lazy and deep but still flooding heavily through your senses until Jisung followed right behind. 

As you caught your breath, Jisung actually looked more relaxed. This was not as satisfying as you would have liked. Jisung needed to keep trying to push past his neuroticisms, no matter how valid. He leaned softly into your hand as you stroked his hair and brushed your thumb against his cheek. 

_ “Hey,” _ you murmured softly to him. “If you think he was being decent, let him be decent. That’s the least we can do, right? Be decent while we’re stuck together?”

“I know,” he sighed. “He even offered to show me how to handle the gun I found—”

“Jisung,” you jokingly scolded him, “don’t you dare consider that for even a second.”

“I know, I know, I know,” he placated, but his smile seemed to relax.

“Do you feel a bit better now?”

Jisung’s mind had seemed to wander for a moment, but he nonetheless looked up at you gratefully when he nodded. 

When you awoke the next night, the first thing you did was check for Jisung in the garage. He wasn’t there. Thankfully, your stomach was feeling cooperative this evening, so you had been able to simply shrug on a jacket over your nightgown after you freshened up. Your fingers absently glided over the scar Rand had left you. It was a minor miracle to not have to deal with nightmares anymore, or else you suspected the pack leader would’ve been populating them. However, that still didn’t stop passing thoughts from invading. It was becoming routine — think about it, wish Jisung didn’t baby you about it with his well-intentioned caress of it each time he got you undressed, and funnel that into your need to destroy Rand if you ever saw him again. You didn’t need a gold star for dealing with it so well, you needed someone to help you sort out that monster. Right now, however, you needed to go find Jisung and see if he wanted to hang out. 

But, as you realized, he wasn’t in the garage. The radio was off, the tools he’d been using were stored away. You considered checking the study before you recalled Jisung saying he found a nice clearing in the woods to read in during the day when the weather was dry. The lanterns mostly lit the way, but the path ran out before you could recount Jisung’s directions as he’d described them to you. A flashlight bobbing in the distance caught your eye, hopefully leading you in the right direction. 

Only it wasn’t Jisung. 

You were careful to mind the moderate ground cover underfoot, cautious of vines and twigs your boots stepped over, but even then you hissed out a curse as you tripped into some brambles and snagged your exposed calf. A fern appeared to have concealed the pointy brush underneath. You considered cutting your little outing short when you finally were able to make out the conversation taking place. You untangled yourself and crept closer. 

_ “— I can’t believe you’re still going on about this. Tell me why it’s any of your goddamn business!” _

_ “It’s my business because we’re here together, Felix,”  _ Chan sighed.  _ “If you get in trouble then I’ll get in trouble.” _

_ “It’s always fucking trouble with you, isn’t it—” _

_ “Don’t fucking start, Felix. I’m glad Judy is nice, I’m glad you’re in love with her, but this is not good for either of you.” _

_ “Why isn’t it? You still won’t tell me! Whatever you read in that fucking journal was good enough to warn me about but not actually tell me anything.” _

_ “I’m just trying to protect you—” _

_ “There’s nothing to protect me from if you won’t tell me what it is! You don’t understand, Chan. I’ve never felt this way before in my life. I don’t just love her, I  _ belong  _ with her. I’m  _ meant  _ to be with her. I can feel it in my—” _

_ “Skin, right?”  _ Chan stared Felix down, who had stopped his frenzied pacing. _ “You can feel it in your skin, can’t you. It feels almost like you’ve been in the sun too long and sometimes all you can smell is her, even if she’s not around.” _

_ “If you get it then tell me what I need to be so goddamned scared about.” _

Chan was markedly silent. In the meager moonlight and his flashlight bouncing off the trees, you could see Chan shift his weight from foot to foot, his hands going from his hips to folded across his chest. You were so engrossed in their squabble you could almost ignore the trickle of blood falling down into your boot from where the damned brambles had gotten you. 

_ “That’s what I thought,” _ Felix scoffed. You ducked back, mindful of the underbrush while turning to watch Felix storm past you and back up to the house. As you turned back to find Chan, though, there was no flashlight beam. There was only darkness. 

You paused in the disquieting night and stared at the spot Chan was just occupying before your eyes quickly surveyed the rest of the clearing, trying hard to not panic and figure out what must have happened in the time between you watching and listening to the younger wolf leave and losing sight of Chan. He wasn’t gone; his scent was still here, his bouquet of mahogany and beach fire haunting you in real time. His scent in the cool night air distracted you from the prickling sting on your leg. Thinking cautiously, you turned to press your back against the tree you had been hiding behind and eliminate a blind spot. 

Only to be faced with Chan. It was surreal, almost occurring as if time was slowing down just for him, just so he could stand himself before you and confront you. This was the closest you’d been to him since you tore him open in the boiler room. Standing together like this, your chest squeezed as you suddenly remembered that first night, both of you breathless and excited as Chan kissed you behind the bar. 

_ “Your heart’s beating out of control,” _ Chan observed, his hushed voice joining the gentle breeze in the exposing night air. His tone was gentle, husky, but difficult to figure out. He wasn’t happy to see you, that much was sure. And he was right. You’d backed up, apparently trying so hard to pass through the tree behind you that you could feel the bark press into your shoulders through your jacket. Sure enough, you could feel your heart beating like mad and rattling your breath. 

_ “Are you scared?” _

You defiantly kept your mouth shut. The last thing you wanted to do was give away more than you already had. Instead, you tried to edge past Chan, until he effortlessly pushed the head of his flashlight into your sternum — hardly pinning you to the tree, but you were stuck nonetheless. Even in the dark, you could see his eyes. For the first time with Chan, you felt like prey. You thought of Jisung —  _ his _ kind eyes, his golden skin soft as deer velvet. All you wanted in that moment was to cling to him and feel safe again. Then again, with Chan being here, by just existing in your space — you felt that incredible gravitation towards him that drove you into Jisung’s path in the first place. Somewhere in you, that small voice emanated an anxious hum. 

_ “You have no reason to be scared right now,” _ Chan reassured you with stinging saccharine in his continued murmur,  _ “considering how things went between us last time.”  _ You were frozen by the sensation of his hand on yours and you wished so desperately that you could pull away when his fingers wrapped around your wrist, but you were frozen in place— by fear, by desire, by  _ something _ . The cold head of the flashlight left your chest as Chan reached up and pulled open the first few buttons of his flannel shirt. Wisps of moonlight streaked across Chan’s pale chest as he gently tugged up on your hand and led you to touch him. His calloused fingertips were soft on your palm as he made you reach out and press your hand to his chest. Your breath had stilled in your tight lungs. Just under his cold skin in the night air he was radiating warmth. A coarse breath became lodged in your throat as your fingertips brushed the gnarled skin comprising the scar you’d left him. 

_ “See? We match now.” _

_ “Why are you doing this?” _ You were whispering to each other like that night under the table in the library and the only thing you wanted in the world was to will your feet to move and  _ leave _ . Chan’s thumb almost affectionately brushed over your hand. 

_ “I’m just reassuring you that you have no reason to be afraid right now,” _ he replied.  _ “You’re apparently perfectly capable of killing me. I don’t think I would’ve made it if you weren’t so courteous to leave me for Felix to find.” _

_ “Believe me, I wasn’t trying,” _ you retorted.  _ “And I’m not afraid of you.” _

_ “Good. I’m grateful nonetheless,” _ Chan shrugged as he let you wrench your hand away.  _ “Besides, the only reason you would have to be afraid right now would be if you knew how amazing you smell. You really should be more mindful of your surroundings; you never know what’s hiding. I watched you from the trees for three days back at your aunt’s house without you knowing. It was just a scratch this time, sure, but who knows about next time. You don’t know how lucky you are.” _

_ “I don’t know what you mean, Chan,”  _ you said as you attempted to stand your ground. _ “Just let me go back to the house.” _

_ “If you’re lurking in the woods looking for secrets, I’m letting you in on one now,”  _ Chan murmured, letting himself fall closer into you so he could breathe you in. It felt so incredible but so unnerving to have him this close. _ “You don’t know how lucky you are. You were alone with the wolf just a few weeks ago and still came out on top.” _

_ “You’re not implying that you would’ve—” _

_ “Eaten you? Why not? The wolf sure as hell wanted to— which is sick, considering how much it likes you. Just staring at you bleeding under me almost like you are right now, with that moon haunting me outside the motel… every little nag of the wolf telling me how easy it would’ve been to tear into you while I still had to reconcile with Rand trying to claim you, praying none of his blood got in that bite to accidentally complete the claim.” _

Chan’s wolf sounded too much like the little whisper in the back of your mind for your comfort. In fact, you were never aware that the wolf was apparently its own mind. You knew the actual wolf form was extremely painful to assume and was really only used in dire situations. It was reasonably handled with medication or meditation, but to think that the wolf still made its own decisions and the human was just a passenger along for the ride… you didn’t like it.

Then again, Chan was the only wolf you knew intimately. Who knew what else would be news to you. Presently, your fingertips pressed hard into the rough wood of the tree trunk to try and keep from trembling. Chan looked breathtaking like this, his eyes darkening as the predator tried to take hold inside him.  _ “Why not give in, then, if it’s so easy,” _ you challenged him. 

_ “Because you gave in first,”  _ he softly replied, the lilt in his dark tone hypnotic.  _ “You gave into your hunger before I could give in to mine. You were lucky to make it out at the last full moon. I’d be more careful of the one coming up. You don’t deserve your luck running out.” _

You felt sick. Despite the ravenous way his eyes bore into you, his warning sounded genuine, and as Chan clearly struggled with every demon on his back, including his wolf, you grappled with yours. You thought of Jisung, sleeping peacefully beside you as he couldn’t stay awake anymore at the end of his night. You thought of Chan, and the way he tried so hard to keep Rand away from you that night in the store, the way he’d truly seemed afraid of you when you gave into your own monster. 

As you noticed Chan heavily considering his proximity to you, his weighted hesitance and his own bated breath exposing him apparently caught between pulling you close and running away, you finally saw it: Chan  _ hated _ this. The way he nervously licked his lips, the worry knotted up in his brow, his jaw set stern — he  _ loathed _ how good you smelled. Even as he leaned in to your timid trepidation, his lips tempting closer to yours, you could feel a desperate restraint in him. You held your breath as you felt his own on your skin. Nervous excitement played with your heartbeat and you let your eyes close. 

Chan paused, one moment away.  _ “Please stop me.” _

Your eyes snapped open at his quiet plea. You could do that. For both of you. 

Chan grunted and cursed when you pressed both your hands to his chest and shoved him off, but he let you run. You ran all the way back to the house, until you saw the light actually on in the garage. 

Jisung barely had a moment to smile hello as you threw yourself into his arms, let alone have any time to figure out what was going on with you when you feverishly kissed him. He tried to caress and pet you down off of him.  _ “Hey, hey, baby…” _ Jisung soothed. He wiped his grease-stained hands on his jeans before he worriedly cupped your face to get a look at you.  _ “What’s wrong?” _

_ “I really need you right now,”  _ you breathlessly pleaded, and you kissed him again where you stood by the open passenger side door. Jisung nodded gravely in your embrace, knowing damn well what that felt like. His fingers caressed your hair, down to your shoulders as he turned and pressed you against the car, ultimately reaching down to tilt the front seat forward so he could gently herd you inside to lay across the backseat. 

_ “How much—” _

_ “Everything, Jay,” _ you desperately whined,  _ “I need you so much right now.” _

The torrid firefight of conflicting emotions taking place inside you was overwhelming to say the least, as Jisung nodded dutifully. He was ready for you in minutes and was already pulling at the hem of your nightgown under your jacket, his mindful fingertips lighting you up instantly. If you could be there for him at the drop of a hat, so could he, and you were grateful once he prodded up against you between your legs. When had you gotten so wet? You barely had time to wonder past your gasp as Jisung gently stretched you open around him. As your mind was awash, you grounded yourself, coming home to his scent of deer and buttercups. His impassioned groans in your ear brought you back to earth, back to this moment between only you and him. However, even then you couldn’t shake this feeling that you weren’t alone as Jisung fucked the worry out of you, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that it was Chan. Either mentally or literally outside the garage, Chan was there and invading your moment. 

Apparently Jisung noticed you elsewhere underneath him.  _ “Hey,”  _ he softly called to you, wanting to bring you back, _ “I loved you last night and I love you tonight.” _

_ “Jisung,”  _ you gasped and whined, _ “I love you, too.” _

Jisung slowed to a halt, hips stilled between your legs as you realized what you just said. His eyes bore deep into you, wondering if he heard you right. And when you thought about it, you knew he heard right. You loved Jisung.

Something about sharing that moment in the backseat of Jisung’s car seemed to make time slow and pull you two into sync with each other. The second he finally moved, he really was making love to you. Jisung kissed your face as he moved together with you, and that closeness felt thick, an invisible tether making you clutch tightly onto him. 

_ “Say it again,” _ Jisung breathed against you, and you could hear the precipice approaching from the stilted confidence in his voice. 

_ “I love you, Jisung—” _ you whimpered, his hushed intensity only adding to the peak he was pushing you towards, right up to when you toppled over the edge. Your legs squeezed around Jisung’s hips, your breathy cries reverberating in the quiet car in the silent garage as you came, and he wasn’t far behind. Jisung’s hips faltered against yours as he rolled into you once, twice more, and climaxed with an emphatic sigh, his voice husky and thick from working you over. 

You reached for him immediately, finding his lips in the dark as he did with you that first time in the bookstore, and glided your fingers back through his hair as he looked into your eyes; the dark brown rimming his enlarged pupils seemed to have a sparkle within them, like a set of stars only you had the privilege of knowing. His chest pushed into yours as you both caught your breath. You could feel the buttons of his jacket through the thin material of your nightgown. 

_ “I love you, too,”  _ Jisung quietly panted, as if the walls outside would crumble if he proclaimed it too loudly. _ “I loved you last night, I love you tonight — and I’m going to love you tomorrow.” _

The world felt cozier when you awoke the next night. After your tryst in Jisung’s car, you had spent the rest of the evening together, the most time you’d spent alone and relaxing so far. You dragged Jisung into a hot bath with you, where he found the already healed scratches from the bramble bush. He did ask what happened. You simply told him Chan had snuck up on you in the woods by accident and frightened you, and as much as you told him not to, Jisung was still hard-pressed to go talk to him. You could only relax once you calmed him down enough and pushed him into bed. 

Everything was fine, really. With Chan set on his path and you set on yours, you would hopefully never have to see him again after Rand and the journals were dealt with. You would never have to tell Jisung that the way Chan looked at you made you breathless, that being so close to him made you want to run, but it also equally made you want to grab onto him and never let go. 

After Jisung had finally drifted off to sleep that night, however, that familiar churn in your stomach returned, this time after suddenly being hit with the memory of Rand’s teeth in you. You couldn’t stay in the room and use your private bathroom, surely — you still hadn’t told Jisung about the puzzling occasional sickness. Instead, you slipped out from under his arm to throw on a robe and trot downstairs, just in time to use a bathroom down there until your stomach was satisfied. Admittedly, that soreness in your gut only exacerbated the hunger slowly forming over the past few days. 

You jumped as you returned upstairs, the first hints of daybreak starting to show outside and revealing Felix quietly slipping out of Judy’s bedroom. He froze as he caught you watching him at the top of the stairs. The hall had been silent as you regarded each other. 

_ “Hi,” _ Felix whispered awkwardly in greeting. He didn’t seem sure of how best to approach you.

_ “Hello.”  _ You had to admit you felt the same if that were the case.

The younger wolf was bundled up in a cozy sweater, but when you neared to get closer to your room, you still noticed the telltale scars on Felix’s neck. Aside from freshly drawn blood and veal, he smelled sweetly of peaches, even daisies. His faint spray of freckles dotting his golden cheeks and dainty nose were incredibly becoming on him now that you could really take a second and see him up close. He had looked wary, ready to bolt. You remembered what Chan had said, about his family throwing him out after he turned, and your chest swelled. Whatever this was he was going through, it was clearly making him the happiest he’d been in a long time. 

_ “Are you being safe?” _ This felt like a neutral enough question, you’d hoped. Felix seemed to think so, a muted sigh falling from his chest once he had flashed a relieved smile and nodded. 

_ “Yeah. I was just hanging out because Judy says it helps her feel more safe.” _

_ “Does she not usually?” _

_ “Not lately,” _ Felix shrugged. _ “She said she’s been hearing noises in the garden and out in the trees, but I’ve tried looking, both during the day and night. Nothing out there, but if she feels better with me staying with her while she falls asleep, I can do that.” _

_ “I’m sure she appreciates the gesture. That’s really thoughtful of you.”  _ You weren’t even being facetious or playing nice; it was true. Whatever Felix seemed to feel for Judy, it was more than just lust. He’d given you a soft grin before he seemed to remember something. He rummaged through his pockets before he reached out, and offered you whatever it was he had found. Felix had placed a photo in your hand, and you tended back up. Beaming back at you was a remarkably cleaner Chan, in his uniform with his natural hair color and without the heavy circles presently rimming his dark eyes. That pang in your chest echoed deep. 

_ “I found it while helping Chan with his records,” _ Felix had explained.  _ “It was in the bottom of his rucksack, in what he affectionately calls his Dead Box. Looked like his whole past life was in there. No known parents, no known siblings, just a juvenile record, a half empty pack of cigarettes, and this academy picture. He said the box is the first thing to go if things get bad. Thought you’d be curious to see.” _

Your eyes pored over this exponentially happier Chan. He still had that shadow hanging over his smile, like there was still a lot behind him, but he seemed almost unaware that this much trouble was out in the world.  _ “Felix,” _ you carefully wondered,  _ “what’s he like with you?” _

Felix’s look had been puzzling, like he had to remember you may have differing opinions or him. He decided on a simple shrug. _ “He’s the truest guy I’ve met. No lies, no secrets… except for now and the whole business with Judy. That’s why it hurts so much. But he saved me, and I’m thankful for him. He’s like a brother to me. And, for what it’s worth, I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you. But I have to know... that night that you and he… did you mean to?” _

A weighted silence staked down between you both. 

_“What did _he _say?”_

_ “He says you didn’t.” _

_ “I’m glad,” _ you decided, _ “because I didn’t. Goodnight, Felix. Thank you.” _

You had handed Felix back the photo. Holding onto it made your gut twist again for some reason.

Tonight, however, after you woke up to an empty bed, you knew the coziness wouldn’t last. You had to find Jisung and make sure he wasn’t caught up in another bout of wanting to do the right thing. You pulled on some jeans and a sweater before stepping into your boots and making your way downstairs, first hoping to catch Jisung in the kitchen. Instead, you were faced with an impromptu meeting of sorts. Felix sat on one end of the kitchen table, Judy sat at the other, and Joanne and Lucy were sitting between them. Yuna was mysteriously missing from this conversation. You had to wonder how her sister’s lovestruck rebellion was affecting the youngest. It seemed loneliness may have become a disease in the large house, jumping from person to person as these relationships were forming and changing. The girls instantly clammed up when you entered the room, but Felix gave you a reassuring smile. You quickly apologized and made your way out the back door.

The garage was dark again when you checked it. That wasn’t a great sign, but you weren’t going to let yourself become nervous yet. Instead, you headed out on the trail between the lanterns, being extra careful of the brambles and anything hiding at the fringes of the trail. Until you heard a gunshot. 

You could only hear the breeze rushing past your ears and your own panicked breathing as you tore through the woods, even though you knew plain and simply that Lia’s property bordered private as well as public property. A hunter could simply be out too late, or a homeowner could be dealing with pesky vermin, but the only thing you knew in this moment was that Jisung was nowhere to be found yet and you had heard a gunshot. You only slowed once you reached the edge of the clearing Jisung must’ve meant in the first place, but it was more like you skidded to a halt. 

Jisung was further down the tree line, aiming towards a target staked about 50 meters away… with Chan behind him. The two men paused for a moment to scan their surroundings as they heard the rustle of your feet in the brush, and you dropped down below a fern, breathing slow and steady through your pursed lips to calm your heart. What in the hell was Jisung doing out here? How could he go against your simple wish? There was no way Chan didn’t put him up to this, convince him that it would be better to be safe than sorry or some bullshit like that. 

You bristled as the two of them seemed to be getting along just fine. Chan corrected Jisung’s form and posture a little, guiding him to make sure his arm was stable but not stiff when he aimed. He fired again, and you could see the paper target tear as it was hit. You seethed. You were set on your path. Chan was set on his. You had suggested decency, but this was way too much. The boys shared a high five and celebrated by cracking open a beer, and you couldn’t take anymore. You turned and marched right back to the house. 

However, you were now too full of energy and had nowhere to take it. You considered waiting up for Jisung, but you knew that would only rile you up even more. It was as you were ascending the stairs that you noticed a light on in the study. You peered inside, and were grateful to find Lia, bundled up in her usual cozy layers, all cotton and wool. Perpetually freezing, as Lia appeared to be, you’d never seen her dressed down in less than a long-sleeved shirt. She seemed grateful to see you, too. You walked inside, and she gladly pulled up her feet where they’d been stretched across the couch. 

“You alright, sweetheart?” Lia asked as she set her book down. She looked so tired. 

“How do you always know when I’m not?” You laughed solemnly. 

“I just know these things. Is it about Jisung? I like him with you, you know.”

“Right again. I guess I sometimes hate when things become certain.”

“Because that’s when things can become disappointing. You can't truly be upset unless you know where you stand.”

You smirked, your mind almost too foggy to really humor her. “How do you do that?”

“I just know how you are, sweetheart.”

“I mean, I know it’s…” You folded your arms, trying to consider what it really was that was bothering you, or even what all you could tell Lia in this moment. “It hurts when you know what’s best for someone, and they think they know more.”

“I know what you mean,” Lia laughed out loud. You could almost feel how worn down both of you were. “It reminds me of a story.”

“Oh?” You did always love Lia’s stories. When she got into it, you could just rest beside her and listen to her talk for hours.

“Sure does,” she nodded, and she was already ready for you to nestle in closer to her on the couch as you watched the fire roar in the study. “It’s an easy one, since that’s all I have the energy for. But once, ages ago, I was madly in love with a young man—”

“You?” You giggled. Lia pushed at your shoulder.

“Indeed, me,” she lightheartedly rolled her eyes. “This was back when I was with Shepherd. He told me I had to be careful, over and over again, but I was in love and I knew how to take care of myself. I thought he was just being selfish, maybe overprotective.”

You sat up. This was the first Lia had ever mentioned his name to you. The revelation wasn’t lost on her either, as her quick inhale and sigh seemed to be giving her the energy to continue.

“Everything was glorious, it was perfect… until I woke up with a fever one night.”

“Lia…” You were chilled. As far as you knew, your immune system was impenetrable once you turned. It was one of the bigger benefits of the lifestyle, truth be told.

“I kept my secret for a whole week. I couldn’t tell my beau, I thought he might have given me whatever it was. I had to admit that I didn’t know everything. I had to talk to Shepherd. At the end of it all, he was the only one telling me he knew what was best, and he could be right.”

“And? What did he say?”

“Shepherd sat me down in the back of the bookstore, and he held my hand and shook his head. He never treated me like that before. He told me, ‘ _ You silly young thing. If you’d told me sooner, you would know by now that there’s two things you can’t do anymore: you can’t get sick by any human means, and you can’t bear a child _ —’”

“We can’t?” 

Lia looked at you suddenly. You figured that must’ve been similar to Shepherd’s look, the look she was giving you now. “No, sweetheart,” she shook her head. “We can’t. Only purebreds can. Anything else will shrivel up and die in us, if it even has a chance to get that far.”

“Then what was making you sick?” You pushed before you could stop yourself. Lia grinned as you forced yourself to relax into the couch.

“First, Shepherd deduced that my beau was a Non-Viable Donor. This was before databases were a thing. Then — and this was the first time I hated him — he decided that I was only exacerbating it by knowing I was defying him.”

“What the hell—?”

“The weird thing was,” Lia continued, “that I couldn’t shake the feeling he was right, at least partly. Every time Shepherd told me to believe him, a small part of me wanted to. I was actively defying him, and you know your mind is more powerful than you like to admit.”

What Lia was referring to was still embarrassing to recall. When she had found you, you were running yourself ragged from dusk till dawn, stressing yourself sick over this new life you didn’t know how to navigate yet. So, sure, she may have had a point, but there was still something nagging at you.

“What if…” You carefully mulled over. “What if you didn’t feel like you were doing anything wrong by anyone?”

Lia took a second to meditate on this. “Then I would consider if I’m doing wrong by myself.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : 🌓 ⭒ 🌕 ⭒ 🌗 : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

You had sat up in bed that night after talking with Lia, half reading a book and half listening to Jisung when he casually told you that he was out working in the garage longer than he expected. First, you had been considering if you really  _ were  _ doing any wrong by yourself. Then, with Jisung’s casual lie, you wondered if maybe  _ he  _ was doing anything wrong. It felt like, perhaps, the right thing to do was hold back, to not jump the gun, to be more careful about all this than you had been. It did feel like you were looking at this with refreshed eyes.

Then again, maybe there was a new hair trigger presenting itself now that you knew Jisung and Chan were apparently hanging out and didn’t find it pertinent to tell you. You had found Jisung out in his makeshift firing range the next two nights, but even that didn’t steam you. Inside you, you knew there was nothing objectively wrong with the two men being on good terms, or even becoming friends. It was when Jisung walked out from the shower to find you reading in bed again, however, and he said something that made your hair stand on end. That changed things.

“You know,” he laughed as he toweled off his hair, “I’m starting to think I had Chan pegged wrong. Like I know I said I was beginning to see the appeal, but I actually get it now. He’s a nice guy and— hey, are you alright?”

You straightened up, having apparently silently outed yourself again before you nodded into your book. 

“Oh, come on now,” Jisung grinned, “no secrets, remember?” There it was. Jisung was thoroughly perplexed as you snapped your book shut, got out of bed, and threw on a jacket over your long-sleeved shirt. “Baby? Where are you going?”

“I think I left something outside,” you grumbled. Jisung didn’t follow you out.

Instead, you marched out by yourself to his little improvised hideout. Chan was there, relaxing in the moonlight, the silver light growing fuller with each passing night, and he was pensively reclining in one of the lawn chairs he and Jisung had apparently dragged out there. He barely looked at you, but his cocked eyebrow hinted that he was aware of your presence.

“Yes?” He was fiddling with Shepherd’s gun before he set it down beside his chair.

“We need to talk.”

“We do?” Chan reclined his head back, preemptively washing his hands of this situation.

“We need to talk about why you two are keeping secrets from me.”

Chan did look at you now. “Who’s keeping secrets? You and I don’t talk.”

“Then Jisung, you asshole.”

He raised his hands defensively. “I told Jisung he shouldn’t be keeping things from you. He said it’ll be easier if you don’t know.”

“What’s not to know?! I told him to never touch that goddamn gun again, and you’re laughing and whooping it up like pals  _ and  _ you’re showing him how to use the fucking thing!”

_ “Look,” _ Chan shot back impatiently. He rose to his feet. Something about the lines of his face seemed more severe, but you thought perhaps it was the moonlight playing tricks on you. “Jisung came to me and asked if I snuck up on you in the woods. I told him it was an accident, just like you weren’t meaning to spy on me. Jisung apologized for coming in hot — because he did — and said he just wanted to protect you. He told me the least we could do if we’re stuck like this is be decent to each other, and I liked that, but he lamented the whole thing about not even being able to use the gun if it ever came to that, so I figured I could provide that for him, but only if he told you. He told me he told you. I’m sorry if he lied. He just wants to protect you, just like I do.”

You were so tense you felt like your knuckles would tear through your skin. Instead, you leaned forward, scooping Shepherd’s gun off the ground and checked the chamber. Chan backed up a few steps, hands up again before you aimed for the paper target, still stood up in the clearing and fired straight at it. You were out of practice, having only bought and trained with a gun for a short period after that wolf mugged you back in college. Nonetheless, the target rocked as you hit close enough to the center to make a point. Your grimace felt pronounced while you opened the chamber again and emptied the rounds into your hand. Chan was silent as you tossed the gun at his feet and stormed off.

With that settled, you were on a warpath the next night. You had no patience to get properly dressed again, this and your steadily growing hunger making you feel a bit on edge. You yanked on a jacket over your nightgown and huffed downstairs before you found Jisung working in the garage on — of all things — the van Chan and Felix had lifted. He was apparently taking a break, sitting on the workbench and peering through the manual when you stepped right up to him. Jisung seemed to have sensed your anger as he quickly set the manual down, and flinched as you tossed the bullets in his lap.

“Baby,” he flustered, “I can explain—”

“No excuses, Jay.”

Jisung sighed hard as he stared at the ammo in his lap. “No excuses,” he repeated. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“You’re quite the hypocrite,” you sneered, fighting through your hurt. “If you’re buddies now what’re you doing playing with silver bullets?”

“Hey,” Jisung defensively bit back. “I told him I wanted to be careful—”

“Careful?” You laughed meanly. 

_ “Yes,” _ he groaned harshly, “I wanted to be careful. I showed it to him, and it was still half full, just the way I found it by Shepherd: full of wood-tipped rounds. Chan emptied it and used what he had on hand that would work.”

“This  _ sucks _ , Jisung,” you sighed, and fought hard to not get too heightened over this. “This sucks, because I love you and I expect us to trust each other.”

“I love you, too! I trust you, too!” Jisung was up on his feet now as well, the ammo pinging onto the concrete floor where it cascaded off his lap. “I just want to be able to protect us and the girls and—”

“Will everyone stop trying to protect me?!” You didn’t mean to raise your voice, but here it was. Jisung folded his arms, momentarily stunned, waiting to see if you got that out of your system.

But you didn’t have a chance. A piercing scream rang out from the top floor of the house.

You and Jisung exchanged a terrified look before he followed after you, bounding out of the garage and into the house to sprint up the stairs. That sight wasn’t any better, the empty hall foreboding as you reached the landing. Your heart crawled into your throat. A door down the hall slammed open. 

Judy’s room.

She spilled into the hallway, the girl only recognizable because it just happened to be her room. She was a wreck, streaked in blood, her clothes hanging off her in tatters, her hair a mess — and the monster leaping out of the room and landing on top of her. Felix. 

If Judy barely resembled herself, Felix was long gone, the roars and growls coming from deep within him only belonging to the wolf as he tried to get her to sit still long enough to tear into her again. _ “Felix, please—!”  _ She screeched, her words cut off into a gurgle as he pinned her roughly back down onto the floor. You could see him more clearly now as he sensed onlookers — a whimper behind you let you know the girls had made their way to the landing now — and he was gone. Felix’s eyes had done dark, almost completely black as he breathed hard through his hunger.

Jisung was the first to finally move, barreling forward and tumbling Felix off the poor girl, and you were quick to join, attempting to wrench his clawing hands out of the way so either of you could get a hold on him. Felix seethed and snarled, his lips curled back over his bared teeth that had presented themselves in his hunger, fighting hard to get either of you off of him. If any of the noises he made were words, you couldn’t tell. With the two of you attempting to hold him back, the girls finally rushed forward to Judy’s aid. It took a moment for you to figure out just where the blood all over you came from, before it became readily apparent that it was Judy’s. Felix yanked his arm from Jisung’s grip, about to swipe you both off until a gunshot rang through the hallway.

Lia lowered the gun in her hand, but you could still see a pearl handle matching the gun you’d thrown at Chan the previous night. Felix reeled from the new wound burning in his arm, a shocked cry seeming to rouse him from the wolf’s reign. The hallway seemed to freeze as Lia approached the whimpering boy with cold fury before she simply shoved her finger into the newly pierced hole and dragged him back down the corridor. The dark shadow had drained from Felix’s eyes, who suddenly seemed to be dealing with what the wolf had done in his absence. Lia looked at you, Jisung, and the girls as she pulled him along.

“Get Chaeryoung out of the goddamn hallway,” she huskily ordered. “And someone needs to control the whelp while we wait.”

“Lia, I didn’t—” Felix choked out, already overcome by the realization of what he did. “I didn’t—  _ oh fucking christ _ , I didn’t mean — what do I—”

“We wait, dear. Just like I said. We’re going to see if there’s any chance to help Chaeryoung while we wait for you to calm down enough to tell us what the hell you did.” Lia silenced him harshly, with a twist of her finger still thrust in his arm. She pushed him into the study as the girls and Jisung helped usher Judy along inside right behind them. You attempted to process everything that just happened in the past few minutes. All you could hear was Lia commanding that someone  _ needs to control the whelp _ . And all you could think of was Chan.

The rage carried your feet faster than you had originally thought possible, twigs and leaves snapping beneath your boots as you sprinted out to the clearing. You weren’t sure what you would do when you found Chan, but you knew he was the cause of all of this.

What you found, upon reaching the clearing, was the ghost of a flashlight beam leading you out to the field beyond, closer to the edge of the property line. You slowed down to a careful walk as you approached. Chan sat on the grass in the bright moonlight, arms folded on his knees as he considered a deer heaving for breath with its hooves caught in a hunter’s trap. He was dressed comfortably in a flannel and sweats, like he just rolled out of bed, and you hated that like this, if this moment resided in a vacuum, you could find him just as handsome as that first night. But out here, you could only hear the breeze whisper reserved judgements through the foliage as the both of you waited, as silent as the deer.

“Tell me something,” he finally said, still not looking up at you. “Say you’re me. What would you do?”

“I didn’t realize there were choices,” you replied curtly.

“Sure there are,” he nodded. “You could do what’s right for you, or right for the deer.”

“What about you,” you retorted. How silly of you, to assume that both options were one in the same. “What would you do?”

“Honestly?” Chan shivered as he rocked up onto his feet. He placed a calming hand on the deer before he stepped on both latches on either side of the trap and pried it open. The deer got up on shaky legs, but quickly sprinted off. “I sort of really wanted to eat it.”

You scoffed. “Of course you would—”

_ “Can you fucking blame me?!” _ Chan snapped at you. You backed up a step. “I’m  _ starving _ , but can I afford to leave and hunt as I’d like? What’re you even doing out here?!”

It wasn’t lost on you, that Chan was eyeing the blood smeared on you. “Ever the goddamn martyr, aren’t you,” you glowered. “You need to get back to the house,” you said with an attempt to be calm, “Felix—”

“Do  _ not  _ get me started on Felix,” Chan laughed harshly. “Don’t even mention him to me. I don’t care what he does now. I have stuck my neck out for him so many times, I have wasted so much patience on him, I’ve accepted and loved him and helped him—”

_ “Chan!” _ You barked. “Will you shut the hell up?! I’m trying to tell you Felix and Judy—”

“Oh, it finally happened, huh?!” Chan reeled, feigning surprise. “What, he just thought he could ignore me and nothing would happen?! I can’t say I fucking blame  _ him _ , if she smells half as good as she smells on you.”

Chan stepped closer. You stepped back, but only to dig your heels in as you swiped your hand through Judy’s blood on your chest to slap him across the face, if it smelled so goddamned good. However, Chan caught your hand, his grip menacing as you tried to pull free. You wriggled in his hold. “You are such a goddamn monster,” you hissed.

“I asked if you can fucking blame me,” Chan shot back, his voice cold and thick, and you recognized that dark shadow clouding his piercing gaze. He torqued your wrist in his hand with surprising ease, clearly giving in to his temptation to smell the mauled girl’s blood on you before you tried to kick him off. Chan easily tipped you back, yanking you close and falling on top of you in the clearing by the opened trap. “Let’s try that one more time,” he grimly chuckled through a sharp shiver. “Can you blame me?”

“For  _ what _ , you fucking animal,” you spat. The crazed look in Chan’s eye only seemed to be goaded on.

“For  _ being  _ a fucking animal,” he sneered as he held you down. “I’m alone, I’m starving enough to want to eat a fucking trapped deer, and I’ve been listening to you fuck that dipshit for the past month. Do you know what actual torture that is? If I have to think about that prick’s hands on you one more time I think I’ll actually go mad. Every goddamn time I stumble across him fucking you I want to tear my hair out, that’s why I’m never in the fucking house when you’re awake. And you know what makes it worse? I  _ like _ Jisung.”

“Don’t you dare say his name right now,” you struggled out as you tried to knee Chan off of you. He seemed blatantly unaffected. You could see the hair on his neck stand up in alert against the light of the full moon. 

“Why? Aren’t you happy? You were right,” Chan miserably lamented. “I’m a monster and a stupid animal, enough to get jealous over a rotten bitch who tried to kill me just because she knows what it’s like to eat and not feel satisfied.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you gritted out, even though that was a stone faced lie. You knew exactly what it was like, eating and never feeling satiated until you gave into that nagging feeling so deep in your mind it felt like it sat in your throat. 

“Sure you do, don’t lie,” Chan spat, “I bet every time you feed on Jisung you—”

“I said  _ do not _ talk about Jisung as if you have any right.”

“Why? What’s wrong, princess,” Chan taunted. “Do you feel guilty? Whatever happened to never talking to me? Never interacting with me? You’re not even trying to avoid me now. Whatever Felix did in that house wasn’t more important than whatever bullshit you keep insisting on dredging up. Admit it—”

“Admit  _ what _ , you fucking mongrel?!

“What I said really bothered you, or else you wouldn’t be hanging around while I’m telling off Felix. You hate that I said you belong to me, but you keep fucking wondering why it doesn’t feel wrong.”

You thrashed uselessly underneath Chan, but he didn’t look like he was enjoying this. 

“You have this little voice in the back of your head that dictates your whole life now, and it’s not questioning why you’re mine, it’s just mad about it,” Chan insisted. The surety with which he said it rocked into your chest and made your heart slow. “I know, because I have it, too, and it’s not the goddamn wolf. I’m just as lost—”

“I  _ hate _ you!” You cried out, your voice hoarse, and you finally got him to shut up. “I hate you, you son of a bitch, Chan. I fucking hate you. Pretend you’re me, alright? Let’s play your game, so pretend you’re me. And you meet someone who makes you excited to be alive for the first time since you died, which is entirely rare, but he drags you down an entire rabbit hole just because he asks you to trust him and doesn’t even have the decency to kill you when he’s done with you.”

Chan was frozen above you, shocked into silence from the enraged tears brimming at the corners of your eyes as you beat your fists against his chest. 

“And pretend you convince yourself that this person is actually great, he’s noble and saved you, and you just want to find and know this person because you’re a goddamn idiot and a slave to that voice in your head that decided now was a good time to show up and affect everything you do. And even when you find someone else in that process, someone who you love and loves you back, you can’t even enjoy it, because you know you’re a rotten bitch who can’t stop thinking about that night you asked me to trust you.”

The tears streaming down your face and into the grass stung in the cold night air, but not nearly as much as catching the heartbreak and devastation in Chan’s eyes as he laid against you in the grass. He stubbornly shook his head. “You don’t get to throw yourself at the feet of this situation,” he scolded. “I searched for you, I tried to protect you, I saved you from Rand, and you  _ still  _ tried to kill me! I’m stupid enough to love you and pine over you and you  _ still _ tried to kill me—”

“You do  _ not _ love me,” you snapped. It was gross, noticing how good Chan’s pulse smelled in his wrist. His darkening eyes seemed to glow in the night. 

“You don’t get to decide that!” He barked indignantly. “I don’t even want to! I wish I didn’t love you, I wish I didn’t want you, I wish I wasn’t fucking haunted by you when you’re right in front of me—”

_ “Then get rid of me, Chan!”  _ You cried out, and Chan stared you down again in an attempt to not get distracted by your distress. “Get rid of me,” you repeated, trying to push him to do  _ anything _ , and you finally willed yourself to move. You slapped him, hard, once across the face, and you could feel your nails scrape against his cheek. “Dig me up from the garden and throw me out to the damn tree line if I’m so much trouble.”

Chan was eerily still as he was shaken by your strike, the last of the color in his eyes was overtaken by darkness. The shine was still there, only outlined in black like tar as his weight felt more definitive against you. “I asked you to stop me last time,” he finally spoke through a full body shiver. 

_ “Fuck you,” _ you spat as you attempted to wriggle out from under him. “Stop yourself.”

“Come on,” he pleaded, “the wolf actually knows you. Stop me,  _ please _ .”

“Fuck you  _ and _ the wolf,” you snapped, and you attempted to smack him again, if only to surprise him into giving you enough space to kick him off. Instead, Chan leaned harder into you, your slap seeming to lure him in instead of push him away. His hand on your cheek pushed back behind your ear to grab into your hair, and you fought off a whimper before you turned towards his arm and reflexively bit into him. 

The blood rushing over your tongue was a mistake, first evidenced by your desperate moan from finally being fed, and Chan’s garbled curse that sounded more like a growl. His response was instant, his hand spread on your shoulder to slam you down onto the ground and dig his bared teeth into your shoulder. This was apparently the last push his wolf needed to stop being civil, but the worst part was how incredible it felt, only adding to the constellations swirling around your head with his blood on your tongue. Blood begat blood, and you were of two minds as you snaked your fingers into his hair to yank him off long enough for you to pull him back down and sink your teeth into his throat. Chan’s groan still sounded a bit like him, but his clawing hands were that of the wolf spurred on by the smell of your exposed blood making him starve, and his own exposed blood making him want to break you down until you were no longer a threat. You cried out as Chan pinned you to the ground, his snarling teeth finding unmarked skin on your neck to gnaw into as you tried to rip him off. His growls reverberated through your throat and your dizziness almost made you feel faint. Even as you were able to crane his head to the side and scrape your teeth into his shoulder, you were hyper aware enough in your hunger and adrenaline to recognize that Chan was noticeably hard against you between your legs, his hips even rutting against you under your thin nightgown as you both were giving in to your monsters in an attempt to survive each other. 

The thick haze marring your judgement was killing you, making it difficult to tell the difference between what he wanted, what you wanted, and what both your little voices wanted. All you knew was Chan’s hands and teeth on you made you burn, with pleasure and disgust, and the more you fed on him the more you rutted your hips down against him like you were possessed, just like that night in the library or back in the boiler room. And, it seemed, the wolf was keen on such attention, no matter how much Chan tried to shake his head and pull away from your clawing hands. He was always right back on top of you, sinking his teeth into you wherever he could fit around you doing the same. 

You couldn’t tell, in the midst of either of your frenzies, exactly how Chan’s bared member ended up thrust up against your heat that was thoroughly betraying you, but you knew neither of you did anything to stop it as he grinded past your scant layers of clothing. In fact, there was even a moment, a brief second of hesitation, and you could see him past the wolf as you could recognize in your haze that he was laying right in your entrance. Your nails dug into Chan’s biceps, the muscles there tensing under your clutches as you gasped and arched your back at the sensation of him falling into you. 

If Chan had wanted to eat you, he would’ve done it by now, but it became apparent as he fucked you, with his teeth gripping into your shoulder, that it wasn’t that simple. The wolf wanted you in a similar way Chan wanted you, minus any of the superfluous human feelings attached. Even then, he was in there, despite the beast driving him. Each time his lips dragged across your skin, every time his bruising grip softened into a gentle caress, any time you thought you heard him curse under his breath, it was Chan, and if you could sift out any of those extraneous sensations, the sick waves of ecstasy that were overwhelming you could almost be misconstrued for affection. 

Everything was simultaneously rushed and slowed between you, and you weren’t sure precisely when Chan’s opened shirt revealed that you had clawed him back open where you had originally mauled him, but it took for him dripping all over you for you to notice, the dark crimson pooling and sticking to the front of your nightgown hiked up around your hips. Incredibly, this transfusion of sorts was driving you mad, raking you through visceral bliss until you could see a peak on the horizon. By this point, a faint breeze could probably eviscerate you, let alone an orgasm from the wolf currently thrusting roughly against you. Still, you whimpered, you whined, worn down and exhausted from trying to stop wanting this like he was, and you grabbed at his chin, tilting him towards you as that precipice crept closer.

_ “Chan—”  _ you weakly begged, and he was the one who looked back at you, and not the wolf. The darkness faded for a moment, the whites of his eyes becoming just a bit more opaque as he found you. _ “I fucking hate you, but at least tell me you want me.” _ It was a ridiculous request, you knew. You couldn’t tell if it was better or worse to hear it.

He ardently nodded as that darkness crept back over his vision. _ “I love you, you bitch, we belong to each other,” _ he grunted in a moment of clarity, _ “but fucking hell you make me wish I was dead.” _

You loathed the fact that his affirmation fired you up in just the way you needed, and Chan groaned in surprise as you pulled him close for a brutal kiss, the wolf seemingly not used to such affections. He lingered until you pulled him back off and sank your teeth into him once more, that burst of blood on your tongue sending you just the stars you needed to be pushed over the edge once and for all. You cried out against him, your fingers tangled in his hair as you held him down against you and savored the way your core constricted and squeezed around him. The pleasure drained you, but it thankfully seemed that this was the goal that the wolf had been searching for all along. Chan’s slim fingers clawed into your hair to crane you back flat on the grass as he pinned you down and thrust hard against your sore hips, your numb thighs still cold in the night air before he hit his peak. His growled sigh seemed thick with satisfaction as you felt his warmth flood you, and his hips slowed their frenetic rock against you.

There was still a breeze on the night air as you slowly fell back into your senses.

But it was a rude awakening, that freezing riptide of realizing the gravity of what you’d just done.

You kicked Chan off of you now that he appeared to be coming back, too, and equally as hungover it seemed. He groaned in the grass before he reached for you. You looked down in horror in the blood streaked down you, and as Chan laid an assumedly comforting hand on your thigh — whether for his sake or yours you weren’t sure — you shoved him back onto the opened animal trap as you scrambled up onto your quivering legs. He barked out a curse as he landed on the teeth of the trap before he tried to get up and follow after you, but you’d already taken off in a frantic hurry back to the house, chased as you were by shame and embarrassment that you could let this happen in the middle of a crisis. 

The blood and dirt caking the bottom of your boots made you slip on the cold tile of the house once you rushed inside, and bounded up the stairs, Chan hot on your trail as he suddenly remembered why he was supposedly needed back here. 

You stopped short as you stumbled into the study when everyone turned to look at you, a vision in red with your jacket hanging slack off one shoulder. Jisung looked terrified, his wide eyes darting between you and Chan running in behind you, looking no better and equally as haggard. Nonetheless, he caught you as you fell into his arms, his safe scent enveloping you again as he tried to steady you enough to take a look at you. 

_ “Felix—” _ Chan panted from where he stood in the doorway. 

_ “Chan,”  _ Felix brokenly called back. 

Joanne and Lucy held Judy in their arms where she lay on the hearth on the fireplace. The lighter blood swathed across her lips matched the healing wounds on Felix and Jisung and painted quite the picture: everyone frantically working to get Judy the blood she needed — but it looked as though it may be too late still. Lia sat beside Felix on the floor in front of the couch, with Yuna sitting atop it behind them, knees drawn up to her chest and nervously watching in tortured wait. 

Chan knelt beside the younger wolf, pressing his forehead sympathetically to Felix’s as Lia got up to her feet now. 

_ “Jisung,” _ you feebly murmured into his shoulder, _ “is Judy—” _

_ “We did everything we could so far,”  _ he quietly replied, his gentle voice cracking a bit under the emotional weight.  _ “An emergency room won’t have the resources for her. Lia tried to call a trusted doctor, but they wouldn’t be able to come before tomorrow night.” _

“Felix,” Chan lamented, “what did you do?”

“I —  _ fuck _ — it was so fast, I just…” Felix choked up hard. 

“Tell him, dear,” Lia prodded as she walked over to the fireplace. “This shouldn’t be so hard. You already told us. Just tell it again.”

“I… she…” Felix fought for words, swallowing down his rising emotions again so he could say what happened. “We were in bed. She was reading to me. The pages were stuck, and when she finally got them apart, she nicked herself… just the smallest drop of blood, but Chan, I’ve been so  _ hungry _ , you know — and I just, she must’ve seen how I looked and how I smelled it, and she offered to let me taste if it would help, and—”

_ “Felix,” _ Chan gasped, and it still came out like an admonishment. 

_ “I know,” _ Felix sobbed, weighty tears falling down his face as Chan put an arm around him. 

“Now we all know,” Lia interjected coolly from where she stood at the fireplace. She used the poker in her hand to stoke the flames, to keep the room warm for Judy whose breathing was ragged and shallow where she lay with the girls. Lia looked back over her shoulder at you. “And now that we all know, maybe we should all know what is especially concerning about this.”

Jisung and Chan steeled themselves as Lia turned. She stepped once, twice, closer to Felix, giving him time to look up at her before Chan butted in. 

“Lia, we don’t have to do it like this—” 

“Enough, mutt,” she ordered, before she drove the iron poker into Felix’s chest and shoved until the barbed end pushed through. Everyone jolted at Felix’s stunned yell, even Judy stirring for a moment in concern. Yuna screamed, but stayed put, almost frozen in place. “I asked you both to stay away from my girls for a reason,” Lia scolded. “I afforded too many people in this house the benefit of the doubt, and now the blood that has wrought is on all of our hands.”

Lia took a moment to breathe. You all did, only the crackling fire offering any observations for a minute. Finally, as you all settled in your tension, Lia stooped down to resume her seat next to Felix, almost maternally scooping him into her arms and laying him in her lap as she stroked his hair. 

“Where was I?” Lia asked quietly, her eyes tiredly cast down at Felix. His muted sniffles and silent tears cut into your heart. You could swear Judy was sleepily watching him from the fireplace.   
“Tell them why this is bad, Lia,” Jisung softly prompted. His arms squeezed protectively around you, but his fingers still trembled.

“I suppose we’ll need context,” Lia sighed, settling into this and gathering the energy. “I met Adam Shepherd a lifetime ago. My parents were affluent, and we could afford to travel often. I was young, just started college, on holiday with my parents when I stumbled across his shop one evening. I was charmed by the old man. He always had an anecdote or a recommendation or something to show me. He said I shined so bright he didn’t need the sun, when I asked why he wasn’t open during the day. I adored him. I visited him every day, and when I convinced my parents to return that winter, I visited him every day then, too. It was shortly before I was supposed to leave that he told me. He told me about his life, what it meant, and I was dazzled. He asked if I would stay, and I did. 

“He waited three months to turn me, and when he was done we held each other and cried, we were so happy. I loved him as if he were my own grandfather, a kind of relationship I’d never known before since I never met either of my own. But, about a year later, we grew weary bringing in donors. That’s when Shepherd suggested hiring some help. This was Minho, who was the most beautiful boy I’d ever met in my life, up to and including any I had met while under Shepherd’s tutelage. I was infatuated, but I was nervous, and I wasn’t sure why, but I found out a month later when I caught Minho hunting late last night. He was a wolf, and I’d never met one before. I asked him if Shepherd knew, and Minho told me that he had known right away, and hired him anyhow. Sometimes, he told me, he wondered if he hired him  _ because  _ of that.

“It was easy to love Minho after I knew. He told me that when he looked at me, it felt like he was laying in a field on a sunny day, basking in the warmth. He claimed me on a humid summer night. It burned, when his blood touched the wound he opened in me, but it was the happiest I’d ever been.”

Lia slipped open the buttons of her blouse and let it fall open. A light scar of a bite, faded to a blushing pink, sat on her breast over her heart. However, a massive scar also webbed across her stomach, one you’d never been allowed to see before.

“That same summer was also when trouble began,” Lia continued. “What Minho hadn’t told me yet was that he had run away from his pack when he found Shepherd. What Shepherd hadn’t told  _ him  _ was that he knew. Minho ran from the store and up to the house one night and told me that Shepherd was a madman, that he was trying to develop a cure for lycanthropy and it was dangerous at the very least, and that we should run. I couldn’t. I trusted Shepherd, I loved him. I wouldn’t abandon him, even if it was Minho telling me to.

“I regret that choice every day of my life. I should’ve left with him. It was two days later that the pack arrived. They got me right as I was waking up, and when I finally understood what was happening, I was surrounded by wolves in a motel room by the beach. Shepherd arrived, and I begged him to tell me what was happening, and he simply kissed my forehead and told me I had been the best. He was saying goodbye, and I was so terrified. The others brought Minho in, and that’s when Shepherd stabbed me, once, in the belly. I remembered that Minho hadn’t been hunting, he said he was scared of running into the pack, and once he smelled me…”

You watched, broken as Lia’s breath wavered for a moment until she composed herself.

“I don’t remember much, other than Minho cried as he tore me apart, even inside the wolf. I remember that and the moon outside the window. It was the first night of the full moon. I felt empty when they dragged Minho off of me, and they left me for dead. I woke up in a coroner’s office a week later, having had to rest through it without any blood to help me. Shepherd never came looking for me.” 

_ “Why did they leave you?” _ Felix weakly asked.

“I’m getting there, dear,” Lia assured him, gently patting his arm as she nudged him off her lap and rose to her feet. Felix groaned as he leaned back on Chan for support. Lia turned to face him again before she grabbed onto the iron poker and swiftly yanked it out. The younger wolf let out a hoarse cry as the wound erupted, and Chan cursed before he tried to clap a hand over it. He froze as Lia pressed the tip against his hand. “No one touch him. We’re still waiting.”

“Waiting for  _ what _ , Lia?” You pleaded, holding tight onto Jisung’s hand where he held you.

“I went to find the pack,” Lia continued regardless of your request. “They were in the woods on the edge of Shepherd’s property line where they were apparently hiding out, and they each took a turn interrogating Minho for more information while they tried to figure out how to prove if he was cured or not. When Shepherd finally came, he said there was only one way to know for sure. He drew out his pistol, and he shot the man I loved. He reeled, but he was fine, and I was hopeful for one cursed moment. I watched him unload the pistol, load it with silver, and shoot him again. The pack was disgusted. They called Shepherd a crazy old man and ran. What they didn’t know was that this was just another trial run for Shepherd. He figured it out eventually.”

Lia caught her breath to finish her story when the girls gasped by the fireplace. Lucy was first, erupting into bitter tears. She gently shook Judy’s shoulders, but all the color she had left had drained. Yuna finally moved, leaping over and grabbing her sister and shaking her harder.

_ “Chae!” _ Yuna screamed.  _ “Chae, come on! Chae! This isn’t fair!” _

Amidst this, a pained cough caught your attention. Felix doubled over, gasping and clutching his chest as if he were just feeling his wound for the first time. Chan sat up straighter, trying to get a better look at him. When you looked to Lia, your eyes growing wider in realization, her hard gaze silently implored you to watch. This was what you were waiting for. Felix wheezed through his pain, but you noticed a new warmth in his cheeks that hadn’t been there before. 

“Alright dear,” Lia sighed at Felix as she went to set the poker down, “let's get you fixed up and then we’ll take care—”

_ “NO!” _ Yuna roared. 

Everything moved at once.

Lia hardly had a chance to stop her once Yuna lunged forward, snatching the poker from her hand and driving it back into Felix’s chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted to skzctnightnight.tumblr.com! 💕

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to nctatnightnight.tumblr.com!


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